


it takes two flints to make a fire

by JourEtNuit



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Leverage, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JourEtNuit/pseuds/JourEtNuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On paper they are the perfect team, criminals with hearts of gold who fight for the powerless of this world: a phenomenal grifter who can manipulate anyone to get what she wants, a hitter who will fight tooth and nail to protect those he cares about, a genius engineer with an affinity for explosions, a thief who will steal your wallet and your heart in the same breath, a young prodigy known as the best hacker of his generation and a mysterious but brilliant mastermind. But the reality of working together is a little more complicated, and they have a lot to overcome if they want to save the day.</p><p>Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys, but a bunch of talented people working together doesn't always make a team.</p><p> </p><p>Leverage AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Monty, or the coffee job.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quote from Louisa May Alcott.
> 
> English is not my native language, so if you spot any mistake, feel free to let me know in the comments!

 

 

 

Monty doesn't think of himself as a particularly dramatic person, but this time he's the first one to say it out loud, and he means it: “This is the worst job we've ever done. _Ever_!”

Next to him in the command center, Raven and Lexa are too busy yelling contradictory orders to pay attention to him, so he sighs and gets to work, trying not to get distracted by Clarke and Bellamy angrily arguing in his earpiece, and by the worrying fact that nobody has heard from Octavia in over ten minutes.

 

 

It all started with Nathan Miller, one of Bellamy's contacts-turned-friends from his past career as a hired gun. A reformed criminal, Miller now owns a small coffee-shop and specializes in baking the most delicious almond croissants Monty's ever had in his nineteen years of existence. Unfortunately, ArkKoffee, a huge coffee corporation with an endless appetite for monopoly, was trying to blackmail Miller into selling his shop. Miller, unable to think of a legal way to solve his problem without running the risk to expose his secret past, had remembered that his old buddy Bellamy Blake was now part of a group who protected the defenseless from greedy corporations. So he had come to them.

It seemed like the perfect job for their newly reconstituted team to get back into business. Nothing overtly complex, and the target was wealthy enough to promise a juicy bounty if they played their cards right.

(“I can't pay you”, Miller had said, honest and resigned.

Clarke had smiled in response, sweetly dangerous. “Don't worry about it. We have an alternative revenue stream.”

“She means we're gonna rob them blind”, Octavia had blurted out gleefully, which had earned her a pointed glare from her older brother, Bellamy.)

They were all eager to work again, but no one was more excited than Raven. Until a week ago, she'd been stuck in the Hillswood prison's medical wing- the team had finally managed to bust her out after two very long months. Monty could tell she was impatient to put the Accident behind her, and to get back to her life of helping the poor by stealing from the rich. And, occasionally, making the rich go _boom_.

In Monty's head, there's always a capital A when they talk about the job where everything went wrong and they almost lost Raven. It's mostly unnecessary though, since none of them talk about it, _ever_ , least of all Raven. One time, just a few days after she'd joined the team, while they were planning Raven's escape from prison, Lexa had inquired about the mysterious event. The cold silence she had received from everyone had obviously quashed her curiosity, because she had never asked about it again.

Or maybe she just didn't care enough, it was hard to tell with Lexa sometimes. She was definitely the hardest one to read among them, apart from Clarke, their grifter.

 

 

Maybe if he'd payed more attention to his teammates at the time, he would have seen the signs.

Raven's restlessness and the way she kept nervously rubbing at her leg brace, Bellamy's worried frown as his little sister talked cheerfully about the dangers of the con, Clarke exchanging silent glances with Lexa as if hers was the only opinion she trusted.

But Miller was sending him smoldering looks from under his improbable beanie, and Monty was growing _very personally_ invested in this particular job. It's hard to focus on anything else when a beautiful man is flirting with you. And _damn_ , if Nathan Miller was not the most beautiful retired mercenary Monty had ever seen. Big brown eyes and smooth dark skin, a five o'clock shadow and an athletic built.

Yeah, Monty didn't stand a chance.

 _I shouldn't have been so distracted,_ he thinks with a bitter pang now, frantically typing codes on his laptop, neck tense and eyelids heavy with sleep-deprivation. _Maybe I could have talked some sense into them, before it all went to hell._

 

 

Two nights after meeting Miller is when Monty started to realize that things were far from perfect.

He had just woken up from a bad dream about Jasper – he seemed to be getting those a lot recently – and he was silently going down to the kitchen to make himself some tea, when he heard whispering coming from the command center. He stopped just in time to risk a peek through the partially opened door, and discovered Raven, Bellamy and Clarke sitting around the oval table, engaged in what looked like a tense conversation.

This alone was nothing out of the ordinary. Bellamy, Clarke and Raven had been a team long before Octavia, Monty and Lexa joined the business, and it was pretty usual for the three of them to meet and discuss things when the others were sound asleep – or whatever Octavia and Lexa were actually doing at night.

No, what made Monty still in his tracks was Raven's angry voice when she said, a little too loud: “I can't believe you didn't tell me _she_ would stay on the team!”

“We just thought it'd be easier to talk about it once you were out of prison”, Clarke said in a placating tone.

“Easier for _who_ , exactly? And since when do you guys make decisions without me? Nah, you just didn't bother telling me, because you knew I would say no. At least own up to it.”

“Fine”, Bellamy sighed. “We knew you wouldn't be happy about it. But it's not personal, Raven.”

“Like hell it isn't! You're basically telling me I'm useless now.”

“No, nobody is saying that...”

“Oh really? Cause it feels a lot like you're replacing my crippled ass with Lexa, _and_ telling me to be glad I wasn't kicked out of the team!”

“No”, Clarke repeated, “that's not what this is about. But things _have_ changed, Raven, and you can't just pretend it's not the case. And Lexa is good, she's the one who got you out.”

“I don't care if she's good, she's not the best ; I am. Bellamy, you better back me up on this.”

“You are the best”, Bellamy agreed, “but it doesn't change the fact that Lexa is good at what she does, and Clarke thinks we need her.”

“I'm not asking what Clarke thinks – she's made that clear. I'm asking what you think!”

But Bellamy didn't answer, suddenly looking suspicious. In two easy steps, he was swiftly opening the door, forcing Monty to jump back to avoid being hit in the face.

“Monty?”, Bellamy asked, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Monty internally cursed his friend's incredible sixth sense, as he tried an innocent smile.

“I, uh... was going to...”, he stuttered, while the girls appeared next to Bellamy.

“Staying up all night playing video games isn't going to get you laid, kid”, Raven commented with a smirk, and Monty rolled his eyes, because really, coming from Raven, that was the kettle calling the pot a nerd.

“Is everything okay?”, Clarke asked him with a concerned look. Monty shot her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I was gonna make myself some herbal tea, but I think I'll just go back to sleep actually. See you guys tomorrow.”

And he promptly climbed the stairs back to his room, not in the mood for an interrogation.

Once safely tucked under his blanket again, he grabbed one of his laptops, and opened a new text document, which he entitled “Spying on the Crew is Bad”, before trying to make sense of everything he had overheard. It's his way of processing new information, making lists and graphs until things have an order and a structure, and he knows how to deal with them. He started typing.

  1. bell and clarke didn't tell raven that lexa would share her job and now she's angry

  2. raven doesn't like lexa?

  3. raven feels useless 




He paused and frowned at the words. Raven was the smartest person he had ever met, and if somebody could _never_ be useless, _ever_ , it was her. But he knew things had been hard for her recently – what with the newly paralyzed leg, and the trauma of actually getting caught by the government for the first time in her life.

No, Monty was way more surprised by how much tension there had been between his three older teammates. He had worked with them for six months before the Accident, and he had witnessed countless fights between Clarke, Raven and Bellamy – they were all ridiculously stubborn – but he had never seen them actually angry at each other. It was unnerving, and he was still pondering this when he finally fell asleep on his laptop.

 

 

At least, this had taken his mind off Jasper.

 

 

The next morning, at breakfast, Raven cornered him while he was sleepily eating his cereal.

The Blake siblings were out on their usual morning run, and Clarke didn't usually wake up before nine and was probably sound asleep upstairs. Monty had no idea where Lexa was - he didn't know her well enough to ask about her daily routine.

“So, what do you think of Lexa?”, Raven asked casually, leaning against the kitchen table. Her brown hair was tied in a tight ponytail, and she had this look in her eyes, the one she usually got when she was determined to experiment with something dangerous.

“Hmm, I like her?”, he said in a cautious voice, not really keen on being involved in this.

And that was the truth, he _does_ like Lexa. She's smart, efficient, ruthless, and she always remembers his coffee order. So what if she is not the friendliest person? This is a job, not summer camp.

“But do you trust her?”, Raven insisted.

“I guess? Why do you ask?”

“I don't know, I'm not sure about her. She seems like a bitch.”

Monty raised one eyebrow at that comment, and Raven blushed slightly.

“Oh, fine, don't give me that look. I just don't get why you guys are so quick to trust her. She's only been with you for a month.”

“She got you out of prison”, Monty answered, quietly. Raven softened.

She popped onto a stool next to him, and stole a sip from his coffee, pensive.

“You know, I think it took me a full year before I was able to trust Bellamy and Clarke, when we first started working together. I'm not kidding, an entire year, 365 days before I really knew I could count on them. And it was the same for them.”

She took another sip, and Monty could swear her eyes turned a bit misty. “I don't know about Bell, but Clarke sure seems like she trusts this girl an awful lot for someone she barely knows, and that just rubs me the wrong way.”

He hummed, silently hoping she wouldn't start crying, because he wasn't sure how to deal with a crying Raven Reyes.

“And she didn't even tell me she wanted Lexa to stay, after I came back. What the hell? It's like she doesn't trust me to do my job anymore.”

“I'm sure that's not true. Clarke trusts you with her life”, he said, stealing back his cup of coffee.

“Well, she has a weird way of showing it”, Raven groaned.

The front door opened, interrupting them, and Bellamy and Octavia came in, both drenched in sweat. Raven gave Monty a tired smile, and got up to greet them, leaving him to his breakfast and his thoughts.

 

 

An hour later, they were all assembled in the command center, loudly arguing over the best way to proceed with Miller's situation. Lexa wanted to play it carefully – she had prepared a power-point, and Monty's love for her grew exponentially - but Octavia and Raven were in favor of a faster-paced plan.

“Just get in, get the files we need, get out. No need for a minute by minute strategy, jeez!”, Octavia complained, gesticulating wildly, just like she always did when she was getting worked up.

“We don't even know if the files are in the building!”, Clarke replied, clearly siding with Lexa on this one.

Raven glared at her. “Then what do you think is in the secret room that we found on the blueprints Monty got us? A spa?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, and Lexa spoke again, in a calm voice. “It would be safer for us, and for Miller, if we infiltrated the corporation for a few days. Then we would know for sure, Raven.”

“We don't have time for that, _Lexa_. They're gonna evict him in 48 hours!”

“Not if we incapacitate their guys”, Bellamy intervened, cracking his knuckles.

“Which side are you on, Bell?”, Raven snapped.

The room erupted in yelling, but Monty wasn't paying attention anymore because he had just received a text. From Miller. Asking him how things were going, and how he, Monty Kyung-jun Green, was doing.

He knew he should feel a little guilty, because his friends were all trying to come up with a plan while he was focused on the text from the cute guy who was also their _client_ , but he couldn't help the sudden surge of excitement in his stomach. In his defense, it had been a while since anyone had been into him.

He lost himself in a quick back and forth of texts with Miller, before he noticed that all his teammates had filed out of the room. All but Bellamy, who was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Nobody”, he replied too quickly. Bellamy smirked.

“Alright loverboy, keep your secrets, but now isn't the time for distractions. You have to make O and me some valid IDs so we can get into ArkKoffee's headquarters, and Clarke is gonna need a cover if she's gonna pass as a big coffee producer. Get to work.”

“Oh, so we're going with Lexa's plan? How did you get Octavia and Raven to agree?”

Bellamy winced, and let his head fall against the back of his chair. “We just outvoted them, I guess.”

He sighed, before turning his head towards Monty. “Do you think it's a mistake, keeping Lexa now that Raven is back with us?”

Monty's eyes widened. Since when was he the person everybody went to spill their doubts about the team, seriously?

“Sorry, you don't have to answer that. It's just... I worry about Raven. I don't want her to feel unwanted. But Clarke has been harassing me to agree with her on this matter for the last month now, and I'm fucking exhausted. And now O is pissed at me because I wouldn't let her go in on her own...”

“Yeah, you should stop doing that”, Monty said. “I don't think she's one to appreciate the big brother thing.”

Bellamy chuckled, “Well, I _am_ her big brother, so tough luck. I didn't bring her on my team to let her deal with dangerous cons on her own. Anyway, thanks Monty. Get those IDs now, we need to leave in an hour.”

He left, and Monty bit his lip and turned on his computer. First Raven, now Bellamy? That was definitely a lot for one day. He wondered if another one of his teammates would seek his advice before this job was over. His money was on Clarke.

 

 

Turned out, it was Lexa who came to him the next day, while they were waiting in the van for Clarke to come back.

“So”, she stated carefully, and he straightened his shoulders, almost certain she was gonna scold him about what was going on with Miller. Truth be told, he was a little bit in awe that none of his friends had caught on to it so far. For a team of spies and thieves, they were surprisingly oblivious.

“About Raven. Tell me what's going on.”

Her voice sounded indifferent, and she was looking straight at the monitors in front of them, studying the stream of data, but he noticed how she was biting the inside of her cheeks in a very un-Lexa like manner.

“What do you mean?”, he asked, trying to win some time. He was really not in the mood for this conversation. He had barely slept, plagued by nightmares about Jasper again, and the ride to location had been awfully tense. Raven was not speaking to Clarke, Octavia was glaring at Bellamy during the whole drive, and Lexa was her usual aloof self. He couldn't wait till this job was over.

“ I mean, why is she mad at Clarke and me?”

“I don't think she's mad at you...”

“Yes, she is”, Lexa cut him off. “Just this morning, I counted twenty micro-expressions of animosity and twelve of jealousy directed towards me. So I'm asking, is there anything I should be aware of? Is she... are her and Clarke involved, romantically?”

“Uh?”

Monty couldn't believe he had heard right. “Clarke and Raven? No, I mean I don't know. I think they're just very close friends. But...”

He was about to ask more about this, because _damn_ that was unexpected, when the back door of the van opened and Clarke joined them inside. She was dressed in professional clothes - a light blue pencil skirt and a blazer, blonde curls tied in a strict bun -, and she looked as exhausted as he was feeling.

“God, I can't believe I had to sit through the entire meeting just to approach the mark. That was _excruciating_ ”, she complained, before getting rid of her blazer and opening the three top buttons of her shirt, revealing an impressive cleavage. “And it's so hot, today! Seriously, you two are lucky you get to stay in the van.”

Lexa was very deliberately staring at her notepad, but Monty couldn't miss the slight blush spreading on her cheeks, and _oh_. Well, that was an interesting new development.

“But at least now I can definitely get Octavia to the safe. Look what I got!”, Clarke said triumphantly, holding a magnetic key card between two fingers.

“Nice job”, Monty said, taking it from her. “I'll just need ten minutes to replicate that, and then you can go back inside and give it to the Blakes.”

He focused on his laptop while Clarke and Lexa were making small talk, when suddenly Raven's voice came over the com', clear and loud, and her next words were like a block of ice sliding down his spine.

“Guys, we have a problem. They took Miller.”

 

 

Monty feels sweat dripping from his temples, but he doesn't look away from his computer, anxiously waiting for the confirmation that his efforts worked.

“You should never have sent her to Miller's rescue alone!”, Bellamy is roaring in his earpiece. “If Octavia's hurt, you and I are gonna have problems, Clarke!”

“Miller is in danger, and he should be our priority!”, Clarke replies, just as angry, “You need to learn to trust your sister!”

“I do!”

“You two, _shut up_ and get your asses over there!”, Raven shouts, pacing in the command center. Monty winces, his head throbbing from all the loud voices around him. “We lost contact with Octavia almost twenty minutes ago, but I just texted you her last GPS position, so drive fast!”

“No!”, Lexa snaps, “We don't even know what the situation is. They can't just throw themselves in the wolf's den, it's way too risky!”

“No offense Lexa, but I don't fucking care!”, comes Bellamy's furious response over the com'.

“She has a point, Bell...”, Clarke starts arguing, but the rest of her sentence is drowned out by the sudden alarms blaring on the monitors. Monty lets out a shaky breath, relieved. It worked.

“What's happening?”, Raven asks in a panicked voice. Monty just points at the screen, showing how he managed to hack into the city police server, and create three fake alerts for armed robbery leading straight to the warehouse where they believe Octavia and Miller are hold captive.

Raven grins wickedly at him and pats his shoulder, before updating Clarke, Bellamy and Lexa, but he's not listening to them, relieved to see that the nearby police station is dispatching an impressive numbers of vehicles to the warehouse. This will be the perfect distraction for Bellamy and Clarke to retrieve Octavia and Miller, and the presence of cops everywhere will definitely dissuade the corporation's goons from doing anything incriminating.

He only breathes again when he hears Clarke panting in his earpiece, fifteen minutes later. “They're okay, they're okay! We have them both, they are unharmed!”

 

 

That night, once Octavia is safely returned to her brother and Miller is long gone, having thanked them profusely for their help – ArkKoffee is in a lot of trouble now that the police found illegal contraband, including guns, in their warehouse, so his shop is safe for a while-, Monty looks at the team huddled in the kitchen, and waits in vain for any of them to thank him for his brilliant idea and honestly impeccable skills. They're all too busy fighting each other to pay attention to him.

That doesn't stop him from smiling widely as he sneaks out from the apartment, leaving them to discuss who is at fault and who was right and who's to blame for _the worst job they've ever done_ , because he has a coffee date with Nathan Miller, and that's a good enough reward for him.

 

 

 

 


	2. Clarke, or the high school job

Clarke wakes up already feeling tired.

She's pretty sure there hasn't been a single day in the past couple of months where she woke up without this achingly dreadful bone-deep exhaustion, and she doesn't know how long she's gonna last before she breaks in half like a dried-up piece of wood.

But there's a new client to meet, and paperwork to fill, and finances to check – and absolutely no time to dwell on the dark blue lines under her eyes. So she makes her way downstairs to the kitchen, and smiles at Bellamy when he slides a cup full of fresh coffee towards her. He obviously just got out of his post run shower, hair still wet and dripping on the book he's reading – _Augustus: The Life of Rome's First Emperor_ – and she feels a sudden rush of warm affection for him, because she's known him for four years, and she's been living with him for almost as long, and she loves that they know each other's morning routines so well now. It feels familiar and comforting, just like the coffee with two sugars - no cream that he prepared for her, and that she's now sipping gratefully.

Raven enters the kitchen, and Clarke tenses immediately. Things have been stilted between them since Raven got back from prison, and honestly, Clarke isn't sure how to behave around her anymore. Which is pretty depressing, since Raven used to be the only other person, apart from Bellamy, whom she felt safe and comfortable with. But Raven is mad at her because of Lexa, and probably because of a whole lot of other things Clarke really doesn't want to think about this early in the morning, so she schools her features into a graceful smile, and continues drinking her coffee.

Raven barely acknowledges Clarke, and sits next to Bellamy, who wordlessly pushes towards her a steaming cup of Darjeeling tea. _At least this hasn't changed_ , Clarke thinks with a dull pang of sadness, watching Raven as she takes a big sip, eyes closed in satisfaction. Raven's hair is also wet, and for some reason Clarke feels like she's missing something important, but before she can think too much about this, Bellamy clears his throat and puts his book down.

“So, new client today. Who's going?”

Clarke glances at Raven, before answering, “I don't mind going with Monty, if you two want to have a quiet morning. He set up the meeting at Miller's coffee-shop, and he told me yesterday he'd really like to go.”

Raven shoots her a surprised look, and she shrugs. Monty has never expressed any interest in meeting clients before, so she has no idea what made him change his mind. Could just be the promise of good coffee, or that he wanted to get away from the computer for a while.

“Okay then, that settles it. What about inventory?”

“I'll take care of it”, Raven says. “I think we need more fuses.”

Bellamy smirks at that, and Clarke can't help smiling too.

“I'm not sure this job will require any explosions, Raven”, she says, and it's almost like old times, the three of them joking around together.

“Every job requires explosions”, Raven replies, deadly serious, and Bellamy snorts.

“Well, in any case, take Octavia with you. She keeps telling me she needs a new grappling hook”, he says, before turning back to Clarke. “Lexa and I will go over our finances. Meet back here at noon?”

She nods, and gets up to leave, not without noticing Raven's somber look at the mention of Lexa's name.

 

 

The client turns out to be a middle-aged English teacher, Sarah Doyle, who tells them her story in a trembling voice – she's being forced to resign, and she thinks it's because she has proof the school board has been embezzling money – and all in all, it seems like a pretty classic case. Clarke is relieved, and she tells Monty as much, when Sarah leaves after a two hours long meeting.

“Yeah”, he agrees, sounding distracted. “Shouldn't be too complicated”.

“Something on your mind, Monty?”

“Uh? Oh no, I'm good. I have to make a few phone calls, but I'll meet you back at the apartment, okay?”

“Sure”, Clarke answers, eying him carefully.

She worries about Monty sometimes. Yeah, he's a genius hacker, and he can take care of himself, but he's also still a kid, only nineteen years old, and she can't help but feel a little protective of him. She knows he's in touch with his parents, sporadically – and she's pretty sure there's _something_ or _someone_ at home that he refuses to talk about. But she's not about to grill him for information, she understands too well the need to not talk about the past.

 

 

Lexa is the only one already in the command center when Clarke gets back, sitting alone with a stack of paper and a pen, waiting for the others to arrive.

“Clarke”, she greets her, in her usual monosyllabic fashion.

“Hey, Lexa”, Clarke answers with a small smile.

Lexa is... actually, she's not sure what Lexa is. Intense? Solemn? Intimidating? No word feels right to describe her, but Lexa is definitely _something_.

Also, she's hot, but Clarke tries not to spend too much time thinking about that. After all, they do have a very attractive team – have you seen Raven Reyes? And Bellamy Blake is not bad either – and she can't let herself be distracted by pretty people, otherwise she will never get anything done.

She sits across from Lexa and they wait together in silence ; but it's a good kind of silence, the kind she's grown to really appreciate about Lexa. During those weeks when Raven was in prison and they didn't know if she would even recover from her back injury, when both Bellamy and Octavia were angry and loud and restless, and even Monty was talking more than usual, she had felt so relieved to just sit with Lexa in silence. No questions, no ranting, just blessed, peaceful silence in the midst of all her worries and terrors and...

Clarke shakes her head. She doesn't want to go there. _Get a grip, Griffin, it's all in the past._

“So how are our finances?”, she asks Lexa, more to clear her mind than because she really wants to know.

“Good”, Lexa shrugs, then with a small smile at the corner of her mouth, “Way better than when it was just the three of you, actually. I've looked over your books for the past years... who decided to rent a jacuzzi for New Year's Eve?”

Clarke laughs. “Bell thought it would be great.”

“And?”

“It was.”

Clarke blushes slightly at the memory, but keeps her mouth shut. Lexa definitely doesn't need to know what the three of them were up to in their more foolish years. Let's keep an air of professionalism, shall we.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to expand further on the subject, because the door opens and Raven, Octavia and Bellamy enter, followed closely by an unusually smiley Monty.

“Alright”, Raven says, once she's seated at the table. “Let's talk business. Clarke, Monty, the floor is yours.”

Monty grabs the remote and turns on the giant screen on the wall, which they find already filled with pictures and charts, and Clarke clears her throat and starts talking, the two of them working together like a well-oiled machine.

“So, Sarah Doyle, forty-three years old, English teacher at White River High...”

 

 

If somebody had told Clarke a few years ago that she would end up playing the part of a high school teacher at one point in her life, she would have probably laughed in their face. And yet here she is, nervously waiting for students to fill in the art classroom, clad in a professional looking grey dress and her most sensible ugly brown shoes. She knows it's part of her cover – the shy, modest art teacher who's gonna approach her older colleagues and innocently asks a thousand questions about the school -, but _God, does she hate those shoes._

She doesn't have time to dwell too much on her frankly disastrous outfit though, as her students start filing in the classroom, talking loudly as they take their seats in front of her. She spots Octavia immediately, looking strikingly young without her usual dark eyeliner, hair pulled in a demure braid. She's chatting agreeably with two other girls, and of course, Octavia would make friends literally two hours after starting the job. _That damn Blake charm_ , Clarke thinks with only a hint of envy, before inhaling deeply, and starting on her lesson.

Everything goes according to plan – Octavia starts some trouble, Clarke feigns being on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and ends up sending her to the principal, voice carefully crafted to sound downright hysterical. Once the classroom is empty, she sits back on the desk, carefully rolling her neck, hoping Octavia will be able to find something useful in the principal's office.

“That was amazing, Clarke”, Lexa says genuinely in her earpiece, and Clarke smiles, before the mocking voice of Bellamy makes her roll her eyes.

“Yeah, what a great performance! Really sounded like you were on your last nerve, there. Is being surrounded by teenagers bringing back bad memories or something?”

“ _Please_. How are _you_ dealing with being back in school and still a nerd?”

“Eh, some things don't change. For example, I still have half the students in love with me...”

Clarke can hear Raven groaning at his smug voice.

“Shut up and get to work, Bell. You have another history class to sub in twenty minutes.”

“Aw, don't be jealous, Reyes. I promise you're the only one I wanna ask to prom”, Bellamy teases, and Raven's laugh comes across loud and free on the com'. The sound makes something twinge painfully in Clarke's chest – she hasn't heard Raven laughing that carelessly in so long, and she's really missed it, but there's also something about it that makes her feel weirdly excluded.

“If you two are done flirting”, she says, voice colder than she intended, “how about we let Monty report back on his progress?”

Raven's laughter abruptly stops, and there's a few seconds of awkward silence, before Monty addresses the team.

“Uh, yeah I found some stuff on the school records. Turns out they really have no idea how to use their anti-virus software, it was almost insultingly easy to hack into their system. Anyway, I'm forwarding everything to Lexa right now, and then I'll clear out of the computer room.”

“Good”, Lexa comments, impassible. “Then we should be done even earlier than we thought, and we can get out of here as soon as possible.”

“What's the problem, Lexa, you also have bad memories from high school?”, Bellamy teases again, obviously trying to lighten up the mood.

“No”, she answers in a flat voice. “I didn't go.”

And then she turns off her com', and Clarke is left alone in the empty classroom.

 

 

In an unlikely turn of events, the job _does_ end up requiring an explosion.

 

 

 _Honestly, how could any of us have guessed that the school board was involved in a cult?_ is Clarke's main thought while she's slowly backing away from the fanatical math teacher who's currently pointing a gun at her head.

She sees him smile maniacally, and she's about to close her eyes and say goodbye to this earth, when Bellamy barges in the room and lands a swift kick to the back of the guy's right leg, making him fall to his knees. With precise moves, Bellamy disarms him, and then promptly knocks him cold.

“You okay?”, he asks Clarke, methodically emptying the gun, and then dropping the now useless weapon at his feet. Bellamy almost never uses guns if it can be avoided – Clarke knows they remind him too much of the blood on his hands.

“I'm fine”, she replies, voice firm, trying to get her erratic heartbeat under control. “Thanks. We should probably get...”

Before she can finish, the heavy iron door is suddenly slammed closed, effectively trapping them inside the underground secret room. If that wasn't bad enough, smoke starts pooling at the small interstice between the floor and the door, and Bellamy groans.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Are they really gonna burn us alive because we interrupted their weird fucking ceremony?”

“Bell, tell me you're gonna be okay!”, comes Octavia's worried voice into their earpieces. “Can't you break the door or something?”

“It's in metal, O. Contrary to popular belief, I am _not_ , in fact, the Hulk!”, Bellamy snaps back.

“Calm down”, Lexa says, in a voice that doesn't actually sound that calm either. “We're coming to get you.”

The next ten minutes are a flurry of frantic attempts to get the door to open – Clarke ends up almost dislocating her shoulder after she actually runs straight into it, in a moment of frustration ; the door is, unsurprisingly, unharmed.

Monty is mumbling about codes and fire alarms, and Octavia and Lexa are fighting their way into the basement, trying to get to them on time; meanwhile, the smoke keeps slowly invading the room, making Clarke cough and her eyes sting.

Suddenly, Raven is yelling in the com', “Bell, Clarke, GET DOWN”, and as they instinctively throw themselves on the ground, a huge blast shatters part of the upper lateral wall. Half deaf from the detonation, covered in dust, Clarke follows Bellamy through the hole, and they stumble into Raven waiting for them outside the building, wearing a ski mask and a huge grin.

“Thanks, Raven”, Bellamy breathlessly lets out, as they start running towards the van.

Her smile widens in response. “Told you we needed more fuses!”

 

 

Once the whole team is safely back in the apartment, two things happen that Clarke could never have predicted.

First, Monty announces to the team that he has a _thing_ , and without further ado, he slips out of the door before any of them has time to properly interrogate him. In the eight months that she's known Monty, Clarke has learned that his way of coping with danger and adrenaline rush is to spend some time in his room alone with his laptop and some tea, so that is pretty unusual behavior coming from him.

“Is he seeing someone?”Octavia asks, puzzled, and Bellamy starts answering her question, but Clarke can't concentrate on the conversation because suddenly the second unpredictable thing happens – Lexa is hugging her.

Before her poor brain even has time to register the fact that Lexa's arms are around her, and that her nose is buried in Lexa's wild hair, the other girl is hurriedly taking a step back, and Clarke is left with the memory of Lexa's smell – leather, sweat, a hint of lilac – and three pairs of round eyes staring at them.

“Sorry”, Lexa says immediately, her ears bright red. “I just got scared for you over there.”

“Uh, it's okay. Thanks”, Clarke stutters, still a bit stunned. It's the first time Lexa has ever been physically affectionate with any of them.

Bellamy clears his throat. “So, where is my hug...? Or do you only care about Clarke's safety?”, he says, and his eyes are crinkling.

Lexa rolls her eyes, and awkwardly pats him on the arm. “I do care about you too, Bellamy.”

“Well, I'm glad we all care about each other”, Raven intervenes, 'but honestly I should be the one getting hugs and praise, cause I'm pretty sure these two would be smoked bacon by now, without me.”

Octavia laughs at that, and Bellamy also cracks a smile, but Lexa turns serious again.

“Yes, about that. I think we need to talk about how we handled things back there. While I agree that the explosion was a brilliant idea, you should have followed the plan. Or at least talked to us about it. We could have helped.”

Lexa's words have the effect of a bucket of iced water ; in an instant, all smiles are gone.

“I'm sorry, what?” Raven says, in a dangerous voice. “Are you saying I shouldn't have saved them?”

“No, I'm saying that if we're a team, we need to act like one. And there's no place for an ego in a team.”

“Well, that's rich coming from you”, Raven replies sarcastically, taking a step towards Lexa.

Bellamy steps in between them, arms open in a pacifying gesture. “Okay, guys, let's not blow this out of proportions. Lexa, I get your concerns, but I really can't back you up on this. Raven did single-handedly save our lives back there.”

“She wouldn't have had to, if we had discussed this _as a team_ ”, Lexa repeats, stubbornly.

“I think you're just pissed because your own plan didn't work, but you know what? You're not the only brain here.”

“I'm well aware of that. You're the one who's having trouble working with others”, Lexa says between her teeth.

“Okay, Lexa, maybe this isn't the best time. But she does have a point, Raven”, Clarke says, trying to compromise.

“Are you seriously taking her side, right now?”, Raven asks, tone full of disbelief.

“I'm not taking any side, I'm just saying you probably need to put a little more effort into collaborating, instead of just doing your own thing.”

“Oh fuck you, Clarke!”, Raven barks furiously, before angrily stomping to the command center. Bellamy gives Clarke a pointed look as he follows Raven, and Octavia turns towards Lexa, frowning.

“Okay, I'm not sure what the problem actually is, but all I know is that if it weren't for Raven, my brother would probably be dead right now, so I think you need to back off.”

And with that, she disappears upstairs, leaving Clarke and Lexa standing alone in the quiet kitchen.

“Sorry”, Lexa says, rubbing the back of her neck. “I didn't mean for that to happen.”

“No, it's okay”, Clarke sighs, and she feels so tired, this day seems like it will never ends. “It was bound to happen, anyway. I'll go check on her, I'll see you tomorrow?”

Lexa nods and is about to get to the stairs before Clarke adds, on an impulse, “Oh and Lexa? Thank you. For being worried about me. It means a lot.”

 

 

Clarke takes a deep breath, knocking on the door of the command center, and she enters without waiting for an answer. She finds Bellamy hugging Raven tightly in the middle of the room, and the two of them jump away from each other at the sound of the door opening.

“Can you knock, maybe?”, Raven growls, still clearly pissed off.

“I did”, Clarke replies evenly. “Raven, you need to stop taking everything I do and say like a personal attack.”

“Well, how about you start acting like we're on the same side, for a change?”

Clarke pinches her nose between two fingers, and Bellamy sits down on one of the chairs, arms crossed against his chest, clearly intent on giving them some space to hash things out.

“There is _no sides_ , Raven. Lexa, you, me... we're all on the same side!”

“Then why does it feel like you're choosing her over me?”, Raven replies, and the way her voice cracks a little bit at the end feels like a knife in Clarke's throat.

“That's not true. You know I'll always pick your first.”, Clarke says, and she doesn't know how to convey how sincere she is, her voice taking on a pleading tone.

“Then actually _pick_ me, and let Lexa go!”, Raven demands.

“Raven, she's the one who brought you back to us. You're only here because she helped us. She helped _me_ , okay, I can't just let her go! And you know what, she _is_ good for the team, she has that big-picture perspective that we've lacked before, that was missing when...”, Clarke cuts herself off, but Raven finishes her sentence without missing a beat.

“When I fucked up and got caught. Is this what you're saying, that it was my fault?”

“No, I'm saying it was mine! Don't you get it?”, Clarke finds herself shouting unexpectedly, and Raven opens her mouth but doesn't actually say anything, taken aback. “I should have known they were coming for you, and I didn't, and you got hurt because of this, Raven. It almost cost you your life, and I cannot get anyone else I love hurt, and I think Lexa can help us with that, okay?”

Clarke's eyes are blurry with tears when she stops talking, but she can see a sudden flash of understanding on Raven's face.

“This is about your dad.”

The words actually make her reel backwards in shock, but Raven goes on, inflexible, unrelenting, “Clarke, I am not your dad. What happened to me was not your fault, and you need to stop projecting. And I appreciate the fact that you don't want me getting hurt again, or anyone else, but you're gonna have to actually deal with what happened. Because God knows _I am_ dealing with it.”

Clarke swallows back her tears, and she's about to agree, when Raven's next words make her feel like her lungs just collapsed.

“And sooner or later you're gonna have to deal with what happened to your dad, Clarke. You can't escape your past forever.”

Clarke's heart is pounding in her ears, her hands feel clammy, and the words are out before she can even process what she's saying. “Like you've been dealing with your mom?”

Raven's face turns white as a sheet, and without another word, she's out of the room. Clarke lets herself fall onto a chair in front of Bellamy. Her hands are shaking. 

“You shouldn't have brought up her mom”, Bellamy says after a while.

“I know”, Clarke says, and yeah. She does know. Raven's mom is a really terrible human being, and she should never have used her in this conversation. “It's because she talked about my dad, I just... panicked.”

“I know. You need to talk to her, okay? For real, this time. I can't be the bridge between the two of you forever.”

“Yeah. God, I'm so tired.”

“Then go get some sleep”, he says gently, before getting up and slowly leaving the room too.

 

 

Clarke doesn't go to bed though, she's well-aware that sleep won't be coming to her easily tonight. Instead, she sits at the kitchen table, waiting for Monty to come home, because that's what she does, apparently, she cares about other people so that she doesn't have to deal with her own issues.

Around one in the morning, the door to the apartment opens, but instead of Monty, it's Octavia she finds staggering into the entrance, eyes unfocused, breath smelling faintly of vodka.

“Where were you?”, Clarke says, immediately concerned, because Octavia is _barely twenty years old, for God's sake_. “What have you been doing? Are you drunk?”

Octavia rolls her eyes and pushes her way through, muttering, “You're not my mom, Clarke. Jesus, chill.” But then she must take pity on her, because she says, “By the way, Monty told me he was spending the night outside, so don't wait up.”

“Okay”, Clarke answers, but Octavia is already gone, and she's left with absolutely zero excuse to not go to sleep. Sighing, she slowly makes her way up the stairs, turning off the lights as she goes, and she's about to open the door to her bedroom, when a small movement at the other end of the hallway catches her attention, and yeah, this is absolutely Raven sneaking out of Bellamy's room. _Oh, so that's what's going on_. Suddenly it all makes sense, the wet hair, the teasing, the hug – but she just feels empty and exhausted, like she doesn't even have the energy to muster any kind of emotional response to the fact that her two best friends are _definitely_ fucking behind her back.

 

 

Later that night, after Clarke has been tossing and turning in her bed, her mind jumping from one thing to another – her dad, Raven, Raven-and-Bellamy, Monty, Octavia-, she finally falls asleep with the faint memory of leather and sweat and a hint of lilac.


	3. Octavia, or the extremely violent job

The wooden stairs are creaking under her heavy feet, and despite her best efforts Octavia almost stumbles right into the wall while trying to get to the bathroom, limbs uncoordinated and vision slightly blurry. She perseveres though, because she can taste alcohol and tobacco on her tongue, and she would really, _really_ , like to brush her teeth before going to bed.

Thankfully, nobody seems to be awake so late at night - nobody except Clarke, that is. She can see light coming from under her bedroom's door, but that's hardly surprising, the girl has barely slept in the week since their last job. Octavia wonders idly if she should invite Clarke to come party with her next time, and grins at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to imagine Clarke's reaction to _that_ offer.

She quickly finishes brushing her teeth, gulps down two glasses of water, and remembers to put the bottle of aspirin on her bedside table for future Octavia, before gratefully slipping between her covers. She falls asleep to the memory of loud music and rough lips on her neck.

 

 

Running with a hangover is a bitch. So really, nobody can blame Octavia for being in a pretty bad mood already when she comes back to the apartment, gym clothes soaked in sweat, and head pounding annoyingly. And fuck if the last thing she wants to see when she opens the bathroom door on her way to a well-deserved shower is her brother on his knees, in front of a very naked Raven Reyes sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

She has time to watch Raven's face go from bliss to panic in the five seconds it takes her to react and slam the door shut, and then she yells “THERE ARE LOCKS FOR A REASON”, before angrily making her way back downstairs. _Well at least Bellamy wasn't naked, so be thankful for small mercies, or whatever._

She finds Clarke and Lexa in the kitchen, quietly enjoying their morning coffee, and she grabs a cup for herself, before sitting down next to Lexa.

“We should really invest in another bathroom”, she states grumpily.

Clarke hums noncommittally in response, before narrowing her eyes at her. “Did you get enough sleep, Octavia? You don't look well-rested at all.”

“I'm fine”, Octavia groans, not in the mood to indulge Clarke's mothering tendencies, and Lexa must pick up on that, because she quickly changes the subject.

“Clarke and I are gonna meet with a potential client this morning. Wanna come?”

“Sure, as soon as I can take a shower”, she replies, just as a sheepish-looking Bellamy appears.

“Hey O, the bathroom is free, if you still want to use it...”, he says, and she doesn't even dignify that with an answer, before abandoning the kitchen and her coffee.

 

 

Thirty minutes later, she's sitting in front of a half eaten blueberry muffin, feeling considerably better about her life. Lexa is scribbling down notes on her legal notepad – _nerd_ \- while the huge bear of a man sitting in front of them is explaining his problem. Something about his gym being used by a neighborhood gang – honestly, she didn't pay that much attention, she was mostly focused on getting some kind of food in her stomach. Hangovers will do that to you, she's learned.

Clarke is all smiles and sympathetic eyes, gently prying information from the guy, and Octavia wonders why she was asked to come, because _talking and stuff_ isn't really her forte, but then the client mentions stolen cars, and she's suddenly much more interested.

“Wait, uh...”

“Gustus”, the man grumbles, while Lexa shoots her a disapproving look.

“Yeah, sorry, Gustus. Who did you say the bad guys were?”

“I'm not sure exactly, that's the problem. I just know they used to specialize in stolen cars on the east-side, and now they want to use my gym for something unclear. They wouldn't tell me what, obviously.”

“Did they threaten to cut your ears and feed them to their leader's pet alligator, by any chance?”

“Uh... yeah. How did you know that?”, Gustus asks, suddenly suspicious.

“Yeah, I know these guys. We should definitely help you out, they're pretty bad.”

Clarke only gives her a surprised glance, before rolling with it, and soon enough Gustus leaves with the assurance that the team will put an end to the threats.

“How do you know about this gang?”, Lexa asks her, as soon as Gustus is out of earshot, and Octavia shrugs.

“I used to work for them.”

 

 

“You WHAT?”

Bellamy is pacing in front of her, his neck a dark shade of red, and Clarke is standing behind him, arms crossed, mouth set in a stern line ; and honestly, they both look so eerily like a couple of angry parents that Octavia can't help but feel very young and very defensive all of a sudden.

“I used to work for them! What part of it don't you guys understand exactly?”

“How about the part where my little sister worked for a _dangerous gang_ and didn't even tell me about it until now?”, Bellamy roars.

Octavia can see Monty wincing on her right, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. Lexa at least has the decency to pretend to read over her notes, and Raven... well, Raven can't quite look her in the eyes, so there's that.

“Look, Bell, it was just after boarding school and I needed the money, okay?”, she tries to reason with him, but he isn't impressed.

“Bullshit! I was putting a thousand dollars a month on your account, and the rent was paid for...”

“Fine, I needed company then!”, Octavia yells in response, standing up and going toe-to-toe with him. “You were gone all the time, what were you expecting me to do, sit alone at home and learn _crochet_? I needed to have fun, Bell! I needed to just do something crazy for once!”

“Don't put this on me!”, he replies, glaring at her, and they're so close she can see the veins throbbing on his temples. “I was gone doing work _for you_! Everything I did... everything was _for you_ , O.”

“I never asked you to do anything!”

“Well, who was gonna take care of you, if not me?”, he hisses between his teeth, a little viciously, and that makes her take a step back.

“Don't...”

“ _Your_ dad left Mom, and she left _us_ ”, he goes on, his eyes growing dark and cold. “So I'm sorry if you were feeling lonely or whatever, but I was out there doing my fucking job, earning some money, protecting you! And you... what? Decided to join a gang? Do you know the things I've done, Octavia, to make sure you'd never have to do precisely that kind of shit?”

“Bellamy, calm down”, Clarke says, in a cautious tone, but he waves her off.

“And to keep it a secret? When you knew damn well that this is the kind of information I needed to know before I agreed to let you on the team?”

“Oh, you wanna talk about secrets, Bell?”, Octavia finally retorts, rage like a fire burning hot inside her ribcage. “How about all the things you refuse to tell me, all those trips you came back from with blood on your clothes, the jobs you used to do that I still know nothing about, except when you _cry_ about it in your sleep?”

Before he can answer, she points to Raven, leaning against the table. “How about the fact that you're fucking _her_ , and you didn't tell any of us about it?”

The silence that follows is one of the most awkward things Octavia's ever had the misfortune of experiencing. It seems to go on and on forever, nobody quite knowing what to say, until Lexa clears her throat and mumbles, “I'm just gonna...” and then promptly disappears from the command center, clutching her notepad against her chest like it's a life-jacket and she's on the verge of drowning. Monty slowly closes his laptop shut, and smiles weakly at no one in particular.

“So, uh... congrats, I guess? On... well, I don't know if you guys are dating or what, so uh... congrats on the sex... I mean, no, I don't mean that...”

“You can go, Monty”, Raven cuts him off, in a tired voice.

“Yeah, okay, awesome, see you guys when you're done.”

And with that, Monty is gone too, and Bellamy finally regains his ability to speak.

“Okay, that was out of line, O. Whatever is going on between Raven and me is none of your business.”

“Yeah”, she agrees. “Just like what I chose to do before I joined the team is none of yours.”

He shakes his head, but he seems to relent at last, dropping heavily onto a chair at the table, and Octavia lets out a relieved sigh. She really doesn't want to keep arguing with him about this. Truth is, she's not particularly _proud_ of her criminal past – nor is she ashamed, for that matter. But Bellamy's overbearing protectiveness always makes her much more defensive than she would be otherwise, and she'd rather they just forget about the drama and figure out how they're gonna handle the new job.

Of course, she rarely gets what she wants, which is why Bellamy turns towards Clarke instead, with apologetic eyes.

“Sorry, by the way. I didn't want you to learn about it like that. We were just waiting for...”

“Oh, please”, Clarke cuts him off, and the smile plastered on her lips has no warmth to it at all. “Did you two really think I didn't know? If so, I'm a bit concerned about the future of our business. You guys should probably get some stealth training before we start on the next job.”

“Don't do that, Clarke”, Raven says in a warning tone, and Octavia shifts a bit closer to the door, just in case things get too explosive and she has to make a quick exit.

Survival instinct, she has plenty of it.

“Don't do what?”, Clarke asks innocently, and Bellamy rolls his eyes at her as he lets Raven answer.

“Act all passive-aggressive because you're pissed at us. I'm sorry if that's news to you, but our relationship, mine and Bellamy's, doesn't _actually_ revolve around you. And after that shit you pulled last time we had a conversation, I don't really feel like having a heart to heart with you anytime soon.”

Raven's words seem to make Clarke deflate on the spot, and she leans wearily against the wall behind her.

“I've tried to apologize a thousand times, Raven. I didn't mean to talk about your mom, you know that.”

“Try harder”, is Raven's sharp reply.

“If this is about Lexa still...”

“What's about me?”

Octavia jumps away from the door at the sound of Lexa's voice ; the girl apparently managed to sneak back without anyone noticing, and she is standing right next to her. _Who is she, a damn ninja?_

“Nothing”, Clarke replies with a forced smile, and Lexa nods like she doesn't believe it for a second.

“I see. Well if you're done, I think we should start on the prep meeting, cause there's a lot of stuff to figure out, and – no offense, Bellamy – we've lost enough time as it is discussing Octavia's past as a gang member.”

There's a minute of stunned silence – and Octavia has to remember to close her mouth, because she's actually gaping at their newest teammate – which Lexa clearly interprets as collective agreement, since she then motions behind her for Monty to come back too, and goes to take her usual seat around the oval table.

Octavia hesitates for a few seconds before sitting across from Bellamy, and Monty plops onto one of the chairs and opens his laptop without a word. That leaves Raven and Clarke standing at opposite ends of the room, and Lexa just calmly stares them down until they both relent and come join everyone at the table.

Octavia fidgets with the sleeves of her sweater, and exchange a glance with Monty, who seems as uncomfortable as her. The energy in the command center is disconcerting, everyone acutely aware of the tension that seems to vibrate between them all.

“Alright”, Lexa starts after a deep sigh, signaling to Monty to turn on the giant screen. “First order of business: we need a plan where Octavia stays hidden as much as possible. Some of the bad guys will definitely be posted at the gym, and they will recognize her immediately if she shows her face...”

Octavia groans and drops her head on the table in frustration.

 

 

Octavia _hates_ staying in the van for any extended period of time. Maybe Monty and Raven are fine with the greasy car smell and the uncomfortable seats, the empty food containers littering the floor and the pot of lukewarm coffee propped up against the computer, but she just can't stand it. It's six in the morning and she already wants out. This is gonna be a fun day.

A plan is a plan though, and she's supposed to stay put while Clarke is going in with a mini camera hidden in her neon pink sporty headband, so she can watch over the video feed on the monitor and identify any gang members among the gym goers. Bellamy and Lexa are already inside, posing as new clients, and Octavia has to admit it's a pretty sound plan.

She still fucking hates the van though.

“Okay, I'm about to leave the locker room. How do I turn this thing on again?”, Clarke mutters on the ear-com'.

Next to Octavia, Monty shakes his head desperately, “I told you a thousand times, you just have to activate the cam app on your phone. Does anyone ever listen to me?”

“Oh, got it. Sorry, Monty.”

“Don't worry, kid, it's not personal”, Raven comments from Octavia's other side. “Clarke has always been a disaster when tech is involved.”

Clarke doesn't reply, for which Octavia is grateful – she'd rather not have to listen to another bout of bickering between these two so early in the day.

There's a crackling sound and the monitor screen comes to life ; Raven, Monty and Octavia immediately lean closer, studying the image Clarke's camera is showing them. She's standing in a huge room, already filled with people either using machines or lifting weights. Clarke slowly turns on herself so they have a complete view of the place, then she starts walking around, and Octavia spots Bellamy in one corner, doing pull-ups. He doesn't show any sign that he knows Clarke, but he does casually pull himself up with only one arm when she walks past him, and Raven huffs.

“Show-off”, she grumbles, but her tone is full of affection, and Bellamy casts a smug smile at the camera, before Clarke turns away from him.

“See anyone you know?”, Clarke whispers, getting closer to a group of men talking loudly.

“Nope, keep walking.”

Lexa is next, on the thread mill. She's clad in a black sport bra and gym shorts, and she acts indifferent as Clarke walks closer to her side of the gym, looking serious and focused with her earbuds in. Sweat is running from her temples down her neck, and her toned stomach is glistening under the harsh ceiling lights. She seems to move effortlessly, legs light and fast, muscles rippling in her arms and shoulders, and...

“Uh, Clarke... you know we see everything you see, right?”, Monty says when the camera hasn't moved away from Lexa for a full minute, just as Raven lets out an irritated growl.

“Quit checking her out and show us the rest of it, Griffin!”

Clarke abruptly turns around, and Octavia concentrates again on her face recognition mission, but not without filing this new information away. She could always use some blackmail material, after all.

 

 

After an hour of tiresome surveillance, Octavia finally spots two men she remembers from the gang, and then the whole con is set up pretty fast. Bellamy casually approaches the guys, asking them how they feel about their gym being about to be owned by a _woman_ \- he gestures towards Clarke with his chin in an awfully dismissive way that has Octavia seething even though she knows it's pretend – and the chain reaction is immediate, as predicted. Phone calls that Raven traces to various locations in the city, a very suspicious black car showing up in front of the gym, a fake meeting with Gustus behind closed doors, a mysterious note containing only an hour and an address appearing in Clarke's locker – all in all, a flurry of activity that goes on well into the evening, until the gym closes for the night.

While Clarke goes to a meet with the gang's leaders to discuss the future of the gym they think she's about to buy, with Monty playing her personal assistant and Bellamy as secret backup, Lexa stays with Gustus for the night just in case something goes wrong on his end. And Octavia is stuck with Raven in the van, for the fifteenth consecutive hour.

“Want some?”, Raven asks her, throwing some leftover pizza under her nose, eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of her, and Octavia lets out a disgusted groan.

“Get that away from me, or I'm barfing in your van.”

Raven chuckles, “Jeez, lighten up. Is this about the meeting? You know Clarke is gonna pull it off without a hitch, like she always does, and your old gang pals are gonna end up half terrified and half in love with her, right? There's no need to worry, your brother is safe.”

“I'm not worried about that asshole. I know he's gonna be fine.”

Raven turns from her computer at that, giving her an unimpressed look, which Octavia returns in kind. After a while, Raven relaxes against the back of her seat, eyes softening.

“You know he loves you, right?”

“Hmm.”

“You're the most important person in his life, Octavia. I've never seen anyone love someone the way he loves you. And yeah, sometimes he's a bit of an overprotective asshole, but believe me, you're lucky to have family that cares about you that way.”

Raven's eyes are sad now, and Octavia feels a sudden bitter tinge of guilt on her tongue. She's not completely sure what the deal is with Raven's family – they've never talked about it -, but she's gleaned a few details from her brother and Clarke, and she knows it's bad. Even worse than her own apparently, and that's saying something.

“Thanks”, she finally replies, meeting Raven's gaze steadily. “And he cares about you too, by the way. He's been so much happier since he met you and Clarke. He was beside himself after you were shot and sent to prison, I'd never seen him so scared and angry before. I think you mean more to him than he would ever want to admit.”

Raven nods once, in acknowledgment, and they stay quiet for a minute, until Octavia grins.

“Oh and one last thing, Reyes. He may be an asshole but if you hurt him, I don't care that you have a bum leg, I'll fucking knock your teeth out.”

Raven snorts. “Duly noted”, she says before turning back to her screen.

 

 

Remember how Gustus didn't know what the bad guys wanted to do with his gym? Yeah, apparently their nefarious plan is to organize “extreme” fights in their underground ring, for depraved wealthy people looking to exchange a lot of money for the thrill of a lifetime. “Extreme” fights, as in “extremely illegal”.

As in: to the death.

Turns out, the gang members present at the gym were not only watching over Gustus, they were also on the lookout for potential participants in their little fighting project. Unwilling participants, obviously.

And Octavia doesn't even have time to be horrified or even just slightly nauseous about the whole thing, because there's only one thought frantically spinning in her brain: _they're gonna have Bellamy kill or be killed._

It happened like this: last night's meeting went well, Clarke's act fooled them just as expected, they spilled everything and she made a deal with the gang's leader. Signed a contract and everything. All good. Except, the guys at the gym had noticed Bellamy, stupid, _stupid_ Bellamy showing off his athletic prowess, with his easy charm and his big strong biceps. And when he came back the next morning to replace Lexa - who had spent the night making sure no one tried to harm Gustus - so she could get some sleep, he was not expecting an attack right in the middle of the street, and was knocked out and thrown in the aforementioned suspicious black car in less than five minutes.

So right now, Bellamy is probably fighting for his life in the gang's private ring, in front of a dozen select clients who payed a small fortune for the privilege of watching two poor guys try to kill each other. Which is why Octavia is currently crawling on her stomach, inside a dusty and narrow ventilation conduit, while Lexa is yelling in her earpiece, sounding more and more vehement by the minute.

“Octavia, for the last time, get out of there! If you're found out, you're gonna get yourself killed, or worse, you're gonna blow our cover. How is that gonna help Bellamy?”

“First of all, thanks a lot for your priorities”, Octavia furiously whispers. “Second, it's my brother. Nothing you can say is gonna make me back out. He needs me!”

“What he needs is for us to have a plan! A very good plan! Bellamy's gonna be fine, he'll survive this fight, and we'll retrieve him tomorrow.”

“You know what Lexa, you can shove your very good plan up your ass!”, Octavia hisses, voice venomous.

“O, we're all scared for him”, Clarke pleads when Lexa stays quiet after that, “Just... let us help, come on. You can't do this on your own. We're a team!”

“If you wanna help, go create a diversion, and let me take care of Bell.”

There's a long silence, and Octavia's pretty damn sure they just cut her off the com', but she honestly could not care less right now. She keeps on crawling as silently as possible until she reaches a point where she can hear voices shouting underneath her, and then she stops and presses her ear against the dirty metal. Yep, she's definitely right above the fighting ring. Raven's voice comes suddenly in her ear-piece, tense but straightforward.

“Okay, me and Lexa came up with something, so here's how we're gonna do it, Octavia. Clarke is gone to request another meeting with the boss, under the pretense of re-discussing the terms of the contract, and she's gonna drag him away from the fight, hopefully with a few of his lieutenants. The audience is not gonna intervene – they may be sociopaths, but they're too cowardly to actually get involved in a fight. That should leave you and Bell with two or three goons, tops. Think you can deal with it?

“Sure”, Octavia swallows. “But I need a way to get to him without them noticing and just shooting me on the spot.”

“I know. You have your equipment with you, right? Look in the pouch attached to your belt, on your right side”, Raven orders without waiting for an answer, and Octavia obeys, contorting her body in the narrow pipe. “There should be a small flashlight in there, _don't_ try to turn it on right now, it's actually an electromagnetic pulse grenade. As soon as you can, pull off the end and let it drop in the room below you.”

“What's it gonna do? And why the hell were you messing with my stuff?”

“Are you complaining? Thought so. Basically it's gonna fuck up all their electronic devices, including the lights. You'll have ten minutes to get Bellamy and get out – if you aren't out of there when the lights come back on, we'll have to go with plan B.”

“What's plan B?”, Octavia grunts as she places the grenade carefully next to her head, and reaches down her belt to get her mini screwdriver.

“Not pretty, so you better hurry up. Lexa is gonna clear out the way to the elevator that will take you up to the roof: that's your exit.”

“Copy that. Can Monty unlock the elevator from the van?”

“Working on it”, Monty says. “Just focus on saving him, okay?”

She doesn't reply, getting to work immediately, and even though she can feel her nerves tingling with anticipation and anxiety, there's also a warm feeling spreading in her stomach. They are a team, Clarke said. And it's about time they started acting like one.

In a matter of seconds, she's partly unscrewed the access door panel nearest to her. And then Lexa, sounding out of breath, is giving her the green light.

“Octavia, the boss just left for his office with Clarke and the path to the elevator is secure. You're good to go.”

Octavia takes a deep breath and silently removes the panel. She glances down and her throat tightens at the sight of Bellamy, in the middle of the ring, blood splattered across his chest and tainting his fists red. His opponent is leaning against the ropes on the opposite corner, looking like he's gonna faint, while people in the audience are seating on plush chairs and yelling like rabid animals. She forces herself to focus, checking where the exit door is, silently counting the guards – one, two, thank you Clarke – and then she does as Raven told her.

As soon as the grenade is activated, there's a blinding crackle of electricity, and the whole room goes dark. She doesn't pay attention to the alarmed shouts, letting herself drop smoothly right next to Bellamy.

“Bell, it's me! Come on, we gotta go quick!”, she whispers hurriedly, grabbing his arm and tugging him away from the ring.

“O? What are you doing here?”, he stutters in shock, following her instinctively as she leads him towards the door.

Someone tries to stop them but Bellamy throws a wild punch, and they hear bones shattering under his knuckles as the man slumps to the floor without a sound. She lets go of his arm to frantically pat the guy's pockets until she finds a key, before rushing to open the door. They start running in the dark corridor then, as fast as they can, and they make it to the elevator just as the lights come back. Lexa is waiting for them, two bodies at her feet, face taut with worry. Her lower lip is badly split and bleeding down her chin.

“Come on”, she barks at them, before shouting, “Monty, now!”

They barely have time to get in the elevator before the door closes and it starts going up, way faster than any elevator should. Bellamy slumps against the wall and blinks at them, looking like he's having trouble processing what just happened. His nose is crooked in an awkward angle, and he's sporting a shining black eye and bruised hands, but other than that, he doesn't look severely wounded, and Octavia is finally able to breathe again.

“How did you do that?”, he asks, voice gravelly, and she grins at him, adrenaline still pumping in her veins.

“I'm a thief, that's what I do. I just never had to steal _you_ before.”

“You didn't have to save me, you know. The other guy was pretty much done for.”

“Maybe that's what I was saving you from”, she retorts quietly.

And in her brother's eyes, for the first time in her life, she finds a softness that reads like _gratitude_.

 

 

They make it safely to the apartment, and Bellamy and Lexa start patching up their wounds as Octavia nervously waits for the rest of the team to come back. She knows Raven, Clarke and Monty are putting the final touches to the con, robbing the gang blind and leaking their high-profile clients' information to the press, but she just wants it to be over at this point.

It takes another two hours before they are all huddled in the too small kitchen, Clarke fretting over Lexa's split lip, and Raven clutching Bellamy's hand in her own, tightly enough to break his fingers. He doesn't seem to mind though, a goofy smile illuminating his face as he takes them all in.

“Well, that was fun”, he says, voice made thick from the cotton stuffed in his nose. “Thanks, guys.”

“You should thank your sister”, Monty replies, shrugging. “She did pretty much all the heavy lifting.”

“You're sweet Monty, but no”, Octavia says, standing up slowly and facing her friends. “It was a team effort. And you know, it got me thinking. It's the first time we actually acted as a team. And we were great. So I need all of you to listen to me very carefully.”

She pauses to make sure she has everyone's attention, and goes on, words rolling out of her mouth as fluidly as water.

“Since Raven got back, we've been anything but a team. Lexa, you're great at coming up with plans and stuff, but what's the deal with always choosing _the plan_ over any of us? We're your people now, so either you show that you care about us, or you need to fuck off. All of us, not just Clarke”, she adds when Lexa opens her mouth to protest. “And, side note, you two need to deal with that obvious crush you got on each other, it's getting on everyone's nerves.”

Clarke blushes furiously at that, and Lexa just stares at Octavia with wide eyes, looking completely dumbstruck.

“Raven, Clarke, you need to get your shit together. I'm not entirely sure what the deal is between you two, but it's _exhausting_ , to be honest. Figure things out, you're supposed to be friends, for fuck's sake!”

She glares at the two girls, daring them to object, but Clarke and Raven just look uncannily like they've been hit by a wall of bricks, so she keeps talking.

“Bell, just... I know you love me, and want only the best for me, but let me do my job. Enough already with the big brother act, you need to start treating me like your _teammate_. And Monty...”

She pauses again, and then smiles at him. “Actually, Monty, you're an angel. I have nothing to say, other than thank you for all your hard work. Now, I'm gonna go out and celebrate the job we pulled off today with a few shots of tequila. Anyone got a problem with that?”

Only stunned silence answers her, so Octavia leaves the apartment without another word, feeling lighter than she has in weeks. As she rounds the corner of their street, ready for a night of partying and mindless fun, she hears hurried footsteps behind her, and turns around impatiently, fully prepared to chop Bellamy's head off. But instead of her brother, there's Monty, running towards her with a huge smile.

“Thanks Octavia, that was amazing!”, he says breathlessly as he reaches her, before adding a bit timidly. “If you don't mind the company, I'd love to get a few shots of tequila with you. Also, do you want to meet my boyfriend?”

Octavia laughs, and throws her arm around his shoulders. Maybe she's not that bad at _talking and stuff_ , after all.


	4. Bellamy, or the Robinson job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been forever, but here we are... Fair warning: I don't know the first thing about how radios work.

_He's standing in a Parisian hotel's bathroom, there's blood on the white ceramic floor and he slowly draws his gun..._

_… no, he's in Tokyo, running in a narrow street, a car racing behind him, a gunshot, someone is yelling..._

_… no, he's 16, it's his first job, his hands are shaking when he looks at the man tied up on the chair, there's dried tears on the man's cheeks, he closes his fist..._

_… no, he's lying on a cold rocky ground, hands tied behind his back, there's a dull, deep ache in his right shoulder that runs down to his wrist, his cheekbone is throbbing..._

Bellamy wakes up abruptly, face pressed on wet pebbles, small waves lapping at his feet, and it takes him a second to realize that it's not a dream. Everything is dark and quiet around him, aside from the water's incessant rolling and his own labored breathing, and he has to quell the sudden panic rising in his chest. He inhales slowly and exhales through his nose, letting his eyes get accustomed to the night, ears strained to catch even the slightest sound.

Once he's sure he's alone, he rolls onto his back and sits up, groaning when his shoulder twists painfully under his weight. Sprained, he assesses calmly. His hands are tightly bound together at the small of his back, and he lets out another grunt of pain as he forces his lower body to slide in between his arms. With his hands now in front of him, he wastes no time, tightening the zip tie with his teeth before lifting his arms above his head and dropping them to his stomach in a quick motion. The locking mechanism breaks instantly, and he shakes his newly freed hands, regaining sensation in his fingers.

Bellamy pays no attention to the pain flaring in his shoulder and gets up, taking in his surroundings, the moon and stars shining pale light onto the smooth body of water in front of him. He's standing on a shingle beach, there's a steep cliff ten feet behind him. He's alone.

No, scratch that, he's not alone. A hundred feet or so to his right, he can see something dark and still on the beach, looking suspiciously like...

He runs, heart thrumming in his throat, and drops to his knees in front of the limp body, ignoring the jagged rocks cutting through his jeans.

“Raven!”

She's lying motionless on her back, dried blood from a cut on her forehead smeared on her face, and he presses two fingers to her neck, breathing in relief when he can feel a steady pulse.

“Raven, come on, wake up!”, he says, patting her cheek a little too forcefully. Raven opens her eyes, blinks.

“Bell? What the...ouch”, she groans, sitting up clumsily in front of him. “I can't feel my hands.”

“They're tied up. Gimme a sec”, he says, looking hurriedly around him until he finds a sharp enough stone.

He cuts through the plastic efficiently, and Raven massages her hands, before looking up at him, disoriented.

“Where the hell are we? What's going on?”, she pauses, scrunching up her nose. “Is that the ocean?”

“I think so”, he replies, “I don't know how we got here, and I don't know if we're safe. Can you get up?”

“Yeah, I..”, her words are lost in a grunt of pain when she tries to stand up, and they both understand at the same time.

“My leg brace is gone”, she mutters, disbelief thickening her voice. There's a hint of defeat in her tone that makes Bellamy's heart clench.

“It's okay, I got you. Put your arm around my shoulder.”

She does as she's told, almost instinctively, and he lifts her up with ease, carrying her despite the stabbing pain in his shoulder.

“Well, I guess those big dumb biceps of yours aren't so useless after all”, Raven jokes half-heartedly.

He huffs a small laugh. “Shut up, Reyes. You know you love my arms.”

“In your dreams, Blake.”

Bellamy is about to reply something about how his arms are rarely featured when he dreams about her, but a small movement in his peripheral vision catches his attention and he stops abruptly, pressing his back against the rocky cliff. Something is crawling away from the water, some fifty feet to their right. He squints his eyes, feeling Raven stiffening in his arms as he carefully moves closer, until the moon shines just right and there's a flash of recognition in his brain.

“Monty?”, he whispers, shocked, and then he's running towards the boy, Raven's arms tight around his neck.

Monty turns his head towards them at the sound, looking properly terrified, and in no time Bellamy has set Raven on the ground and is busy freeing Monty's hands.

“What... who..”, Monty stammers, once he's kneeling next to Raven, wet hair falling in his eyes.

“We don't know”, Raven answers him, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so. Is the whole team here, or is it just us?”

Bellamy's heart stops.

_Octavia. Where the hell is Octavia._

“Have you seen O?”, he asks Monty, voice urgent, pressing, internally berating himself. _I can't believe I didn't think of her first. Please, please, let her be safe. Please, please, let me find her._

“No, I woke up like two minutes ago. I haven't seen anyone.”

“You two, stay here, and stay quiet!”, Bellamy orders, as he gets up and starts running along the cliff, on the lookout for any sign of life. It takes him barely a minute before he spots another body, and he sprints towards it, blood thumping in his ears. He sees blond hair and there's a cruel and brief pang of disappointment in his stomach, quickly drowned by a wave of guilt. It's Clarke.

She's lying lifelessly on her side, half her body in the water, but she doesn't look wounded and he feels her pulse beating reassuringly in her wrist as he unties her hands. As soon as he touches her, she shivers and wakes up, eyes unfocused, skin even paler than usual.

“Hey, it's me, you're okay”, he says as he gently helps her in a sitting position.

She opens her mouth, but instead of talking she abruptly turns away from him and throws up, gagging and breathless for a couple of minutes. Bellamy keeps a steady hand on her back, until she wipes her mouth and sits back besides him, frowning.

“Well, that was fun. So, either we had one hell of a party last night, or something is really wrong. You okay?”

She spits saliva at her feet, and he tries to shrug in response but the gesture painfully jerks his shoulder and he lets out a hiss of pain that has Clarke narrowing her eyes at him.

“What's wrong with your arm?”

“Shoulder, actually. Pretty sure it's just twisted.”

“Let me take a look at it, then.”

Clarke is all business as he obediently shrugs out his jacket so she can assess the damage, and her presence grounds him like it always does. He feels relief coursing through his veins, because even though he still has no idea what's going on, or if Octavia is okay, Clarke has his back.

“Alright, I need to set it right. Brace yourself”, Clarke tells him, and then without any warning, she pulls his arm sharply.

“Fuck”, he grunts, but his shoulder immediately feels much better. Still painful, but manageable. “Thanks, Clarke.”

“No problem. So, where are we? What happened?”

He sighs and helps her to her feet as he tells her how he found Raven and Monty. “No sign of Octavia or Lexa, though. And the last thing I remember is driving the van with Raven to go meet a new client. I have no idea how we got here, wherever here is.”

“Let's find out. And stop worrying, I'm sure Octavia is okay. She can handle herself.”

 

 

As usual, Clarke is right: Octavia can definitely handle herself. Which is why they find her and Lexa sitting on the beach with Monty and Raven, waiting for Bellamy to come back, unharmed and safe. Well, as unharmed and safe as one can be when one has obviously been kidnapped and then dumped in unknown territory.

Nevertheless, at the sight of his sister, Bellamy feels the solid block of worry obstructing his throat melt away like ice in the spring, and as soon as he throws his arms around her, his nose deep in her dark curls, he's overcome with relief. Octavia's hands are tight around his shoulders, and he gently rubs the back of her neck, silently reassuring her that he's okay.

When everybody is done congratulating everybody on being alive – Bellamy gives Lexa a quick smile, which she reciprocates with a solemn nod -, the strange and frankly unpleasant situation they find themselves in catches up with them suddenly, and they all congregate near the cliff, disoriented, trying to piece things together.

“So, who remembers anything?”, Lexa starts.

The way she's standing, arms crossed, back rigid, legs solidly anchored on the ground, reminds Bellamy of a warrior ready for battle. Which is maybe not far from the truth, given they have no idea what or even who they are up against, at this point.

“Bellamy and I were on our way to meet with the new client”, Raven says, sitting with her back against the cliff. “I remember stopping at a red light near downtown and then, nothing.”

“Pretty sure I was at the gym. This super hot guy kept checking me out, I was having a great morning. But then I went to the bathroom and, _bam_. Lights out. Can't remember a thing after that. Black hole, until I opened my eyes and found myself tied up over there”, Octavia says as she gestures vaguely to her right and then puffs in annoyance. “He's totally gonna think I bailed on him, dammit.”

Clarke gives her a _look_.

“Good priorities, O”, she says, rolling her eyes. “I think I was in the apartment with you, Lexa. We were having coffee... Next thing I know Bell is waking me up and I'm puking my breakfast all over this lovely beach. I'd say that's a good indicator we were drugged.”

“But who would do that?”, Monty asks.

While the rest of the team is still discussing the events – everyone has noticed by now that their phones, coms', wallets, and personal effects have disappeared ; cue indignation and _a lot_ of inventive swear words, _thanks Raven_ – Bellamy focuses on making a mental list. It's not the first time he's found himself in a situation where survival is his first priority.

They need to find water, and shelter, somewhere safe where they can rest. They will need to find food eventually – get off that beach should help, maybe there are people inland.

And obviously, they need to find out where the hell they are – and how to go back home.

 

 

Bellamy has been through a lot of fucked up shit in his life – and no small amount of it involved kidnapping and/or attempted murder – but this is the first time that he has actually been _abandoned on a fucking desert island._

Honestly he's not sure if he should laugh or cry at this point.

They figured out this charming fact the next morning. As soon as the sun rose, the team set about finding out more about the place. In a surprising show of empathy, Lexa, before they began their exploration, climbed a few feet up the cliff to a lonesome tree growing there, and broke off one solid-looking branch for Raven to use as a crutch. Raven accepted the gift a little bit stiffly, and Lexa didn't look at anyone in the eyes for the rest of the morning – but Bellamy took it as a good sign. It seemed like Lexa had taken Octavia's little speech to heart, against all odds.

So, they walked. And walked. And kept walking, even when their surroundings started looking disturbingly familiar. And finally, after a few hours of grumpily hiking along the beach, they came to the conclusion that they were, in fact, walking in circles.

It goes like this:

1- They are on an island. A rather small island with a sturdy hill in the middle, pretty much inaccessible from the beach, since the cliff surrounding it is really quite steep. There's a few waterfalls running down the cliff, so at least they got their fill of fresh water, but that's about the only good news so far.

2- They are alone, as far as they can tell. No sign of human presence, save for an old abandoned cabin, full of bird crap and trash.

Yep. Desert island it is.

 _We're fucked_ , Bellamy thinks, staring gloomily at the dark blue ocean in front of him.

 

 

“We are NOT fucked”, Clarke says, glaring at each of them in turn.

They're all sitting dejectedly on the rocky beach, waves lapping at their feet. An unenthusiastic Octavia is throwing pebbles in the ocean, and Monty winces at every loud splash of water.

“We really are, Clarke”, Raven replies, her face grim. “First of all, we have no idea how to contact anyone for help. And even if we managed to get people to come for us, we'd still be in trouble. All of us are wanted criminals, and this situation is fishy enough that any local authority is gonna want to look into things pretty seriously. The way I see it, either we stay on this island and die of starvation, or we get people to rescue us, only to end up in jail.”

Raven's voice wavers a little at the end of her sentence, and she adds fiercely, after a shaky breath, “And there is no way in hell I'm going back to jail.”

Bellamy instinctively reaches for her, but Clarke beats him to it, resting a careful hand on Raven's back. She catches his eyes, before she tells Raven, in a low, steady voice: “You won't.”

It's such a small thing – two words – but Bellamy still feels Raven tensing and then relaxing next to him, before nodding quietly at Clarke. _Well, it's a start._

It's Lexa who breaks the silence, stroking her chin pensively as she speaks. “I'm guessing whoever orchestrated this had both those outcomes in mind. The question is, who wants us to disappear so badly? And who has the means for such a complicated plan?”

“Like, half the corporations on this planet. Plus a few governments”, Octavia states matter-of-factly. “We're gonna have to narrow it down.”

Bellamy mulls over this for a while, racking his brain for any clue. When nothing obvious comes to mind, he gives up and studies his team instead - tired, starving, in various states of afraid and angry, they make for a pitiful sight. It's definitely time for what he does best.

Bellamy slowly rises to a standing position, hands on his hips, and clears his throat to get everyone's attention.

“Look, we can keep thinking on who's responsible for this, but if we want to kick their ass eventually the most important thing right now is staying alive. So I'm gonna need all of you to focus and come up with some ideas!”

“I'm a _hacker_ ”, Monty whines, “There's nothing I can do to help in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely no technology whatsoever!”

“You were also a biology major before you dropped out of college”, Bellamy counters. “I'm sure there's plenty of stuff you can do here. Come on guys! We're the best of the best!”

“We're con artists and thieves, Bellamy! How do you propose we scam _an island_?”, Lexa snaps, a little on edge.

“We're not just criminals, we're fighters! Survivors! So if anyone's gonna get through this, it's us!”, he proclaims, letting his voice bloom loud and clear, infusing his words with passion and certainty. “I won't let you wallow in self-pity all day, we're gonna figure this out. Raven, what's brewing in that gorgeous brain of yours?”

She snorts but answers him nonetheless, “I'm thinking we should go back to that cabin we found and go through the trash. We might find something useful.”

“And it will provide us with shelter, and a good base camp to defend if whoever left us here comes back to finish the job”, Lexa adds pensively.

Bellamy feels his heart thumping in his chest, and his lips stretch in a wide smile. “Good! Great! That's a start! Let's go back to the cabin, then, and we'll come up with more ideas soon enough.”

As the team starts to make their way towards their new destination, Octavia jumps to her feet and gives him a one-armed hug.

“I'm so glad you're here”, she whispers, before bouncing wildly back to the rest of the group.

 

 

It takes them the better part of the day to sort through the garbage littered inside the abandoned cabin. The air is warm and humid, and soon, they are drenched in sweat, clothes sticking uncomfortably to the skin, fingers slippery. The stench of bird shit and animal remains becomes almost unbearable in the afternoon heat, so Bellamy takes off his shirt and ties it around his nose and mouth, hoping to breathe a little better. And _fine_ , maybe he enjoys how often Raven's eyes drift towards his abs. Sue him.

Clarke and Monty give up after an hour and rush out of the cabin to go sit on the beach, face greenish, but the rest of them keeps on working, dumping trash in a pit that Octavia dug in the rocky ground, and putting aside anything that Raven or Lexa deem useful. Just when Bellamy is ready to forfeit the whole damn thing, Raven lets out an excited shout and limps hurriedly towards Monty, one hand on her improvised cane, the other gripping something Bellamy can't quite see.

“Look at that!”, she tells Monty, who jumps when she thrusts the mysterious object right into his face.

“What...?”, Clarke starts asking, but Raven raises an impatient hand and effectively shushes her.

“What do you think?”, Raven says, staring wide-eyed as Monty studies the object in his hands.

His brow furrows in concentration. “The voice transmitter device is completely destroyed so we'd need to use Morse code, and that's only if we can repair the circuits... and there's no way to tell how far we could even broadcast efficiently...”

“But we could, hypothetically, make it work, right?”, Raven presses him, eager and a little frantic.

“Excuse me”, and at the sound of her voice they all turn towards Lexa, “but would you two mind filling us in? What is that?”

“That”, Raven says, before she takes a deep breath, “is a radio. And what might be our only chance at getting out of here alive, if Monty and I can get it to work.”

Bellamy's heart flickers between excitement and dread so fast he feels almost dizzy. He puts a careful hand to the small of Raven's back, to get her attention, and asks, “How can we send a call for help if we don't even know where we are?”

Raven winces, but unexpectedly, it's Lexa who answers. “I know where we are.”

Again, five heads whip towards her, and Bellamy would find it funny if he wasn't so damn tired and hungry and concerned-going-on-desperate.

Lexa shrugs. “It took me a while, but I figured it out. The position of the stars last night puts us in the southern hemisphere, and then the cliff, the waterfalls, this cabin... all recognizable landmarks. We're on a very small island in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean, between Uruguay and South Africa. Ironically, it is known as the _Inaccessible Island_.”

“Are you fucking kidding me”, Octavia says flatly, more of a statement than a question.

Clarke looks half bewildered, half impressed. “How do you even know that?”,

“I've read a lot about shipwrecks and desert islands”, Lexa explains, a bit sheepishly. “It's a passion of mine.”

“ _Nerd_ ”, Raven mutters, but it's affectionate, and there's a small smile dancing at the corner of her lips that has warmth spreading inside Bellamy's chest.

Clarke's eyes are soft as she stares at Lexa for a long minute, before she clears her throat. “Well, that changes everything. If we are indeed where you say we are...”, she pauses, and grins. “I think we might actually have a shot at this.”

“Care to explain?”, Bellamy inquires, but she bites her lip and turns to Raven instead of answering him.

“You get the radio working and I know who to contact.”

 

 

_The whistle of a train, fast approaching, the burn of the rope around his wrists, the absolute, abject terror in the pit of his stomach ; he's gonna die on a railroad in the middle of nowhere, he's gonna die, he's gonna die..._

_No. Water in his lungs, water in his nose, water dripping from between his lips – he can barely open his eyes but he feels rough hands pressing at his shoulders, at the back of his head, and he takes a desperate breath before he's underwater again, and his ears are ringing, the minutes pass, his chest is burning, he's gonna drown, oh God he's gonna drown..._

_No. The hard barrel of a gun pressed on his forehead, like an ice cold kiss, his back leaning against a chair in a seedy bar, he can taste blood on his tongue, his knuckles are aching fiercely, broken glass on the floor, he hears a metallic click and this is it, this is how he dies...._

Bellamy wakes up with a start, fists clenched so tight his nails dig purple half moons on his palms. It takes him a moment to get his bearings, and then his eyes fall on Octavia snoring lightly next to him, and the wild beating of his heart quietens at last. On his other side, Raven is sleeping soundly.

He gets up on his elbows. The three of them are lying on the ground inside the cabin, and flashes of the evening come to his sleep-muddled brain : cleaning up the cabin, watching Raven light a fire to burn the pile of trash, Octavia and him taking first watch, going to sleep with an empty stomach.

Bellamy rubs his eyes. It's still the middle of the night, he can see stars shining bright through one of the cabin's narrow windows. He stands up quietly and steps outside, careful not to disturb Lexa, who is sprawled on her back near the entrance.

He finds Clarke and Monty huddled near the fire, talking in hushed voices that seem to resonate in the eerily silent night. One steady breath to clear his mind of unpleasant memories, and then he walks up to his friends, plopping down on the ground next to them.

“Couldn't sleep”, he grumbles at Clarke's inquisitive gaze. “These three girls are snoring louder than my whiskey-drinking, pipe-smoking, ninety-five-year-old Filipina grandmother.”

Monty smiles but Clarke doesn't fall for his light tone, and he grows uneasy under her thoughtful eyes. _That damn girl always knows when he's hiding something._

“So what did I interrupt?” he asks, to get the attention off him. Monty's shoulders tense, and he steals a glance at Clarke.

“Monty's been having nightmares”, Clarke eventually says when it becomes clear that Monty won't talk on his own.

Bellamy gives him a tired smile, ignoring how the word makes his own stomach drop. “That's alright. We all have 'em.”

Monty is sitting completely still, and Bellamy feels the urge to reach out and put an arm around his frail shoulders, to offer some measure of comfort, but Clarke's mouth twitches in a way that says _no, let him talk._

“I had a friend”, Monty starts eventually, eyes downcast. His voice is a bit shaky. “Childhood friend, named Jasper. We've known each other for ever, grew up together, went to college together. He met a girl there, an activist, Maya. I was already doing some pretty cool hacking on my own, you know, but she got me to do real dangerous stuff, political actions.. Anyway, long story short, one of our projects went very wrong, she died, Jasper hates me, and I dropped out of college and ran away and ended up with you guys.”

Monty takes a shuddering breath and Bellamy remembers the night Raven brought the boy to the apartment, almost a year ago. It had taken him a full day to believe that this scared, soft-spoken kid was the hacker prodigy everyone kept raving about.

“It wasn't your fault”, he says, voice low, but Monty shakes his head. “It was.”

“My dad died because of me”, Clarke reveals abruptly, and at that Monty finally looks up, shocked.

She tries a smile, it's more of a grimace. “I was about your age, I was pulling cons by myself. Mostly stealing art works, paintings, and I was so _good_ at it, I got cocky. I made some very bad people angry, and they killed my dad in retaliation. So you see, I know how you feel.”

Bellamy swallows hard. He knows the whole story, of course, Clarke told him and Raven years ago, when the three of them started working together. It's still heartbreaking to see the pain in Clarke's eyes when she talks about it.

Monty grasps Clarke's hand in his. “Thanks for telling me.”

She squeezes his fingers. “It gets better, I promise. And you have us now, alright? You're not alone, Monty.”

They hold hands for a long time, silently, letting the weight of the moment dawn on them, until Monty yawns, and agrees to go get some rest.

“Did you know he's got a boyfriend?”, Clarke whispers pensively as they watch Monty walk back to the cabin.

“I had a feeling that was the case, yeah. Do we know who's the lucky guy?”

Clarke shakes her head. “No idea.”

“Well, good for him”, Bellamy says, before trying on a playful tone. “Speaking of, how is that crush on Lexa going for you?”

Clarke shrugs and doesn't answer, eyes fixed on the smoldering embers. Her teeth are worrying the chapped skin of her lower lip - which tells Bellamy she's anxious - so he doesn't push the issue, content to sit in silence with her for a while.

“How is your shoulder?”, she asks, finally, still avoiding his gaze. Bellamy has to chuckle at the obvious deflection.

“Clarke”, he starts, making his voice sound soft, careful. “I've seen how you look at her, you obviously care about her. And I know why you're struggling, I know what guilt does to you. When we fucked up and tried to con Mount Weather Corp and Raven got hurt, it brought back bad memories of your father, _I get it_. But like Raven said, maybe it's time for you to start dealing with it, don't you think?”

“Yeah.” She sounds very small, and very un-Clarke-like.

“And that means you should start thinking about what you want, for once. You deserve happiness, okay? Maybe you'll find that with Lexa, maybe not, but it's worth a try.”

Clarke nods and huffs out a weak laugh. “When did you become the voice of reason?”

“Your positive influence, I'm sure”, he replies dryly, before nudging her shoulder. “You should get some sleep. I'll stay and keep watch.”

“You look tired too, Bellamy.”

“I'll be fine.”

Clarke seems entirely unconvinced, but she doesn't protest, presses a light kiss to his cheek before getting up and leaving him to his thoughts.

 

 

The thing is, you can have the best team in the world, it doesn't really change the fact that humans need to eat at some point if they want to function normally. On their second day without food, let's just say that the constant stomach growling is making Monty and Raven somewhat inefficient in their radio repairing ambitions.

So. What _do_ you eat on a desert island? Unsurprisingly, everyone is kind of improvising there, which leads to Octavia, Clarke and Raven precariously perched on slippery boulders as they attempt to catch fish with their bare hands. Which _then_ leads to Bellamy having to haul them out of the water like three wet grumpy kittens when they inevitably fall in the ocean.

Meanwhile, Lexa and Monty have teamed up, determined to climb up the cliff and scour the hill for any edible flora. Mostly, that involves Monty progressing up the cliff with the agility of a newborn fawn, but they do manage to reach the top eventually, and disappear from Bellamy's view. He's only mildly worried.

He spots Octavia looking forlorn after the fishing fiasco, so he joins her where she's sitting cross-legged on the beach, petulantly turning her back to the water - and that's when they're both hit with the same idea. In front of their eyes, there's a myriad of nests hidden in every little nook of the cliff, birds flying in lazy circles around them. Octavia looks at him, grinning, and he's reminded of a 10-year-old girl with dark braids and mischievous eyes.

“How do you feel about putting eggs on the menu for tonight?”

Bellamy's smile is just as wide. “Sounds delicious. Let's go steal ourselves some dinner!”

And off they go. Now, climbing is not Bellamy's specialty – not like boxing, throwing knives or baking chocolate chip cookies – but he's still pretty good at it. Octavia, though – she excels at any activity that involves contorting her body in the most awkward positions to get access to something she wants...

( _No_ , this was not meant as an innuendo, she's his _little sister_ , abort.)

Anyway. The point is, she's a damn good thief, and watching her crawl her way to even the most unreachable nests is such an impressive sight that Bellamy, for once, stops focusing on the million ways she could fall and break her neck, and just enjoys the show.

Later, he fries the stolen eggs in their shells – shells that he previously pierced, so they don't explode – and, with a side of braised wild ferns and fresh citrus fruits, the result of Monty and Lexa's explorations, it makes for quite a successful meal.

And for a moment, as Bellamy sits near the campfire and watches Octavia diligently lick her fingers clean, he can almost forget their dire circumstances, and pretend they are on a camping trip somewhere far away, the kind of trip they used to dream about when they were kids, the kind they never got to do.

 

 

That night, when Bellamy jerks awake, blinking away memories of past horrors, he has to force a cry of frustration back down his throat. He's always had nightmares – it's hard not to when you've done the things he has – but for some reason, recently it's been a nightly occurrence. And look, he knows he's a messed up human being, and he probably deserves the pain, but he is so fucking _exhausted_. He just wants to get some sleep.

With a sigh, Bellamy resigns himself to another night cut short, and makes his way out of the cabin, not without noticing Clarke and Lexa curled up so close to each other, their foreheads are almost touching.

Raven is sitting alone near the campfire, still working despite the late hour. She doesn't even look up when he joins her, tired eyes focused on the radio in her lap. The flames are casting reddish golden shadows on her brown skin, and he feels a sudden urge to kiss the top of her shoulders.

“I thought Lexa was supposed to be on watch duty with you?”, he asks instead.

She keeps tinkering with circuits and switches as she answers. “Clarke showed up pretending she couldn't sleep and I can only suffer through so much awkward flirting”, she pauses and snorts. “You should have seen their faces when I told them to fuck off and put that sexual tension to good use.”

Bellamy laughs. “Well, good job. They're basically cuddling.”

“Gross.”

“Going soft on me, Reyes? Never thought I'd see you playing matchmaker.”

“Shut up”, she groans, looking up at him at last, and discarding the broken radio.

“Uh uh”, Bellamy hums, purposefully teasing. Raven tries to glare but she ends up smiling at him, one of those soft smiles that leave his stomach fluttering.

“How are you doing?”, he dares to ask, now that he knows Raven feels safe enough to talk.”How is your leg?”

“Not great”, she admits, with a shrug. “But there isn't much I can do about it, except fixing this goddamn radio. So that's what I'm going to do.”

Bellamy is surprised by her tone – he expected some bitterness, but there is only steely resolve in Raven's voice. And she still has some surprises in store for him.

“How are _you_?”, she throws his question back to him. “We've never talked about it, but don't think I haven't noticed the nightmares you keep having these days.”

Bellamy draws a sharp breath, taken aback, suddenly self-conscious. He starts shaking his head dismissively, but Raven is looking at him like she can see right through him, and his defensiveness evaporates on the spot.

“What can I say?”, he sighs instead, crossing his arms around his knees. “Just because I'm helping people now, doesn't make me a good guy. Karma, you know. It's a real thing.”

“Bell...”

“There's blood on my hands, and I don't think I'll ever be able to wash it out. What are a few nightmares, in comparison? It's not even close to what I deserve.”

“Stop”, Raven retorts, almost sternly. “You know that's not true.”

“I'm damaged, Raven.”

“Oh please”, she shoots back, but her eyes are gentle. “We all are. Your sister, Clarke, Monty, me... I don't know Lexa's deal, but I can tell she hasn't had an easy life. We've all done bad things, Bell, and bad things have happened to us. There's a reason we found ourselves on the wrong side of the law.”

Bellamy stays silent, and she slides closer to him, presses a warm hand on his neck. “Like you said, we're helping people, now. We're doing good. _You're_ helping people.”

He nods, still too shaken to speak at all, but that seems to satisfy Raven. Her fingers trail up to his face, stroking his hair, griping the back of his neck, and suddenly there's a handful of Raven on his lap, her hungry mouth on his, and the tightness in his chest loosen considerably as his fingers slip beneath her shirt.

Afterward, they lie together on the hard rocky beach, catching their breaths under the stars, Bellamy's head resting on Raven's chest. Her heartbeat is low and steady in his ear, and he dozes off to the thought that he's indubitably in love with Raven Reyes.

 

 

If Bellamy Blake had a diary, today's entry would be: “Third day on the island. Still no fucking radio. Raven looks hot even when she's pissed off and hasn't showered in a couple of days. But I don't have a death wish so I'm never telling her that.”

To say that Raven is frustrated is probably the understatement of the century – and Bellamy has seen more than his share of angry Raven. There's a permanent frown etched on her face, and she keeps snapping at anyone who makes the mistake of asking her about her progress on the radio. At one point, Lexa suggests they try thinking of alternatives in case their current plan doesn't work out, and Raven just throws an egg at her face.

(Bellamy did _not_ find it funny. If he laughed, you should blame his frayed nerves and general exhaustion. The look of sheer _outrage_ on Lexa's face had nothing to do with it.)

It's not just Raven though. All of them are restless and sullen and afraid, and Clarke corners Bellamy as he goes to the waterfall to refill their water supply.

“Can't you do something? One of your usual motivational speeches, maybe? Anything to boost morale would be good.”

“I was thinking _you_ should do something actually.”

“Me? I'm a grifter, Bellamy, I'm useless here. I can't con the radio into working, or my own team into feeling better about this disaster.”

“Can't you?”

Clarke blinks, and she looks guilty for a second, which is all he needs to know.

“See, you've thought about it.”

She frowns, hesitant, but relents with a sigh. “Alright. I'll do my worst.”

As they makes their way back to the group, there's a glint of _something_ in Clarke's eyes that makes him shiver despite the heat. Bellamy acutely remembers meeting her for the first time, remembers being face to face with a short blonde girl, all round cheeks and innocent smile, and rolling his eyes dismissively. He had called her _princess_ and told her to go home, that this was serious business, not some fun little adventure for a bored sorority chick. He could not have been further from the truth.

The truth is that Clarke Griffin is fucking terrifying and he will never get tired of watching her in action. A few precise touches here and there, a string of carefully chosen words, and Clarke has them all under her thumb.

She knows exactly how much comfort to give Monty – a hug and a cheery yet sincere pep talk - to get him to focus on the mission again. She catches Lexa's hand in her own, lightly rubs the inside of her wrist, adds a pout for good measure – and a slightly dazed Lexa is halfway up the cliff to go collect more food before Bellamy has time to mutter _whipped_ under his breath.

Clarke knows better than to touch Octavia, just offers her some fresh water and a subtly disguised challenge, but that's all it takes for Octavia to grin and race Lexa to the top of the cliff. Even Bellamy, who is completely aware of what she's doing, is unable to resist _the Griffin effect_ , and obeys without thinking when she presses a hand on his waist and smiles and suggests he keep an eye on the campfire.

Lastly, she approaches Raven, who's glaring at the radio on her lap and looks on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Clarke crouches in front of her, puts a hand on the other girl's knee.

“Raven?”, Clarke says, and she waits for her to look away from the radio and into her eyes before stating, confident, calm, firm: “You can do this.”

 

 

And Raven does.

 

 

When the radio is confirmed to be working properly, there's a beat, a pause. The four of them all look at each other with wild, hopeful eyes. And then it's just a chaotic mess of arms and hands and hair as they launch themselves into one of the fiercest group hugs Bellamy's ever been a part of. Nobody mentions the tears on Raven's cheeks. Probably because they're all seconds away from crying anyway.

Once done with the effusions, Bellamy figures it best to leave Raven, Monty and Clarke deal with the next step – sending their message for help – in favor of being the harbinger of good news: Lexa and Octavia are still up there on the hill, looking for food, unaware of the happy new development.

Octavia is in his arms before he can even finish his sentence, but he barely has time to kiss the top of her head before she's off again, running erratically across the hill, bouncing from boulder to tree stump. Flocks of birds, disturbed by her victorious screams, take off in panicked flight, and Bellamy and Lexa have to drop to a squat to avoid any unfortunate collision.

He groans, amused despite himself by his sister's antics. “Goddammit, O!”

“You love her very much”, Lexa comments, staring at the small bush of low trees where Octavia just disappeared from their sight.

Bellamy doesn't reply. No need to state the obvious. She glances at him. “You've sacrificed a lot for her.”

“My sister, my responsibility”, he says, as if that explains anything. She gives him a serious nod, like she understands what he means, and he's suddenly curious. In the two months they've been working together, Lexa hasn't said a word about her past, at least not to him. Usually he's not one to pry, but their recent success is like alcohol, making him bolder, feeding his impulsiveness, so he asks.

“Do you have any siblings?”

Her jaw tenses. Bellamy braces himself for her signature polite dismissal.

“A sister.”

Lexa blinks, and looks as astonished as Bellamy feels that she actually answered his question. He doesn't dare make a noise, giving her space to keep talking. She tips her head and gazes at the empty blue sky above them.

“I have a foster sister, a few years older than me. She's the only reason I've survived this long.” Another pause. “I'd do anything for her.”

Bellamy hums sagely. Only when it's clear she's not going to add anything does he change the subject, shifting to a lighter tone.

“So... shipwrecks and desert islands is your thing, uh? I can see the appeal, but I'm more of a Roman history guy, myself.”

Lexa grins. “Yes, I know, it's hard not to notice your books, Bellamy. Your room looks more like a library at this point, I'm not sure how you actually manage to fit a bed in there.”

He chuckles, and then, quirking his head to look at her, “You're welcome to borrow them anytime, by the way. If you'd like some light reading.”

Her mouth opens in surprise but she doesn't say anything. The top of her cheeks turn pink.

“Thanks”, she ends up muttering awkwardly.

“Sure.”

There's another silence as they stand together near the edge of the cliff, eyes on the endless ocean below.

“I think this is a test”, Lexa says, out of the blue.

“Uh?”

“Us, on this island... I don't think this is some evil corporation's way of getting rid of us. I think someone is testing us.”

“What are you talking about, Lexa?”, Bellamy says, confused, but his mind has already started processing her words and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“If they wanted to kill us, they could have just done so when they abducted us. Such a complicated plan is a loss of resources, and a waste of time. No, they wanted us on the island. The planned for us to find that radio. And I'm guessing that means _they actually wanted us to figure our way out_.”

He swallows. “But why? And who, then?”

Lexa's eyes turn to steel, her tone cold. “I have no idea, but rest assured I'm gonna find out.”

 

 

It takes two days for anything to happen. Those may be the longest days of Bellamy's life. On the plus side, he finally manages to catch some fish, and cooks them on the campfire, wrapped in leaves with slices of citrus fruit. So at least, this is turning into a real gastronomic excursion.

When they hear the distinctive sound of a plane, Bellamy is fairly certain that he's reached the point of despair where he actually starts hallucinating rather than dealing with reality. But there is indeed a plane – a sleek military jet, hovering in the sky, and then a lone figure in a harness is being slowly lowered towards them.

They all stand up to watch, waiting, anxious for this nightmare to be over, nervous to find out who exactly is here to rescue them. Raven is leaning against her makeshift crutch, her other arm around Monty's shoulders ; Octavia and Lexa have adopted the same defensive stance, arms crossed against the chest.

Clarke, for her part, looks positively _ecstatic_. In fact, as soon as their unknown savior sets foot on the ground and takes off his helmet, revealing dark skin, cropped black hair and a square jaw, she rushes towards him and jumps into his arms like they're rehearsing the dramatic slow mo part of a terrible romantic comedy. They're still locked in a tight embrace when the rest of the team, startled by this display of affection, cautiously makes their way towards them – and suddenly, Bellamy understands.

“Wells?”, he asks the mysterious man partially hidden behind dirty blond hair, and receives a dazzling smile in response.

“Could it be?”, Raven whispers, delighted, at his side. “Is this the famous Wells Jaha, secret agent extraordinaire? I thought she was making him up.”

“Hi”, Wells says, as he disengages from Clarke's death grip. “You must be Raven? I'm guessing you're the genius who set up a communication system from the middle of the Atlantic ocean?”

Raven _beams_ at him, and he smiles back. “I got your message, I came as fast as I could. Are you guys alright?”

Bellamy can't help but find himself immediately soothed by Wells' deep voice and kind eyes. And given the relieved grins blooming on all of his friends' faces, he's not the only one affected by their rescuer's charisma.

“We're fine now”, Clarke says, with a fond smile. “Everyone, this is Wells, my childhood best friend and a highly ranked FBI agent – or is it CIA? I can never remember.”

“It's actually a whole other acronym, that I'm not at liberty to discuss”, Wells says. “What I can tell you, is that Clarke knew I was on an undercover mission in South Africa when she sent me your S.O.S, and now I'm here to make sure you all get back home safely.”

“Wait, am I supposed to trust a man who works for the US government, just because he's Clarke's friend?”, Lexa asks, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “Sorry, but I can't do that.”

Well, apparently _one_ of them is immune to Wells' charm. Clarke takes a step away from him and closes her fingers around Lexa's wrist.

“Lexa... Don't you trust _me_?”

The two of them lock eyes and seem to engage in some sort of telepathic match of wills for a few painfully long minutes – during which Monty and Octavia fidget and Wells amicably bumps Bellamy's shoulder with his own, as if they've known each other for years.

(And is it weird that it _feels_ like he's known Wells for years? With all the stories Clarke has been sharing about the guy, it's hard to think of him as a stranger. It feels more like finally putting a face to a familiar name. A very handsome face.)

(Jesus, what is this schoolboy crush? Get a grip, Blake.)

Eventually, Lexa sighs and wets her lips. “I _do_ trust you, Clarke.”

Clarke squeezes her wrist softly, her face grateful and a bit smug all at once, and there's another awkward silence as the two keep gazing into each other's eyes, until Raven clears her throat.

“Okay, now that we've established who trusts who... I don't know about you people, but I've been ready to get off this island five days ago. Wells? Mind showing us the way out?”

It takes a full hour to transport all seven of them safely to the jet. Bellamy is the last one to leave, and as the harness is pulling him up towards the sky, he resists the childish impulse to spit on the beach.

Good riddance, Inaccessible Island. They have work to do, and people to help: time to get back to business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, Inaccessible Island is a real island! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll try not to make you wait three centuries for the next update.


	5. Raven, or the mutation job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been 94 years, but I haven't given up on this story.

 

 

Raven shifts against the pillow, wishing she could find a better position– her back is sore, and she's having a hard time ignoring the persistent ache this morning. There's a laptop perched precariously on her knees, the edge digging into the skin of her thighs, a small notebook lying open on her right, a pen stuck between her teeth, and Bellamy Blake, asleep on the left side of her bed.

She shifts again, tries to roll her neck, eyes fixed on the screen. She stifles a yawn. It's barely dawn, but she's been up for a couple of hours, combing through months of video footage. So far, she hasn't found anything useful. She's never been deterred by the tediousness of research though – and certainly not when the stakes are so high. Like, let's say, the whole _abandoned on an island in the middle of the Atlantic_ thing.

Someone played a sick little game with them, and Raven has every intention of discovering who, and why. And then, she'll kick their ass, empty their bank account, and make them think twice about hurting her and her friends ever again.

Bellamy snores, a nice distraction from the dramatic revenge speech she's got playing on repeat inside her head. She threads gentle fingers through his brown curly hair and down the nape of his neck, careful not to wake him up. He's been sleeping much better since they moved into the new house. It may or may not be related to the fact that he spends most nights in her bed.

Raven pauses the tape playing on the screen, scribbles down some notes. Around the bed, boxes and bags lay unopened, covered in a thin layer of dust – she pays them no mind, focused on her work.

When they came back from the island, the first thing they did was disappear. Leave town, move out of the apartment that had been Raven and Clarke and Bellamy's home for nearly four years, erase all traces of their existence. They bought a house on the other side of the country, and went to look for work again. A fresh start of sort. Bellamy spent days organizing his extensive book collection by alphabetical order – and then he did the same with his weapon collection. Monty filled his room with electronics and the kitchen's pantry with herbal tea. Clarke sits at the dinner table every evening, drawing sketches in her new fancy leather notebook – a gift from Lexa - while Octavia does yoga exercises on a mat near her.

Even Lexa has been acting unexpectedly _domestic_ since they moved in. She helped Monty set up their new command center, she's the only one who remembers to water the plants disseminated around the house, and she even cooks dinner every Wednesday night.

Seems like Raven's the only one who's not ready to settle in.

Her new bedroom is nice enough. There's a bathroom attached, with a modified bathtub to accommodate her leg, and handrails to help her move around when she doesn't wear her brace. She ordered a bunch of furniture, but the only thing she's assembled so far is the bed. Her bookshelf is stacked in a corner, in pieces, and she's been asked several times if she needed help putting it together, which makes her want to scream. Of course she can put together a stupid Ikea bookshelf.

(“She can, _right_?”, says the annoyingly persistent voice in her head, the one that still wants so very badly for Raven to give up and admit that she lost everything when she lost her leg. Try as she might, Raven hasn't been able to silence the voice, and so the bookshelf's parts stay propped against the wall, untouched.)

A knock on the door interrupts her work. Before she can answer, Octavia comes in, one hand covering her eyes.

“Are you guys doing anything weird?”

“Define weird”, Raven replies, amused.

Octavia grunts and peeks between two fingers. “Oh come on, he's still asleep?”

She walks up to the bed and sits at the end, jabbing viciously at one of Bellamy's legs. “Bell! Wake up you lazy jerk, we're supposed to go on our morning run!”

Bellamy's head immediately disappears under the blanket. “Go away, Octavia.”

Raven snorts, just as Monty appears in the door frame, still wearing his pajamas. “Morning”, he says, with a yawn, as he joins Octavia on the bed. “Can we talk?”

Silence from Bellamy. Raven sighs and closes her laptop, abandoning hope of getting any more work done this morning. “Hey, Monty. What's up?”

“I spotted the bald man again last night.”

That finally gets Bellamy's attention. He turns around and leans up on his elbows, eyes wide open, one hand brushing against Raven's thigh. “When? Where? Was he alone?”

“I saw his reflection in a shop window when I went out to get some milk, but when I turned around he was gone. This is starting to really creep me out.”

Raven chews on her lower lip. Someone has been watching them since they moved in, trailing them as they go out to run errands, following the van. Which would be infuriating enough on its own, but the worst part, the most _humiliating_ , is that after two weeks of this, they still aren't any closer to catching their spy. All they've managed to gather is that it's a white man, and he's bald. It's been driving Bellamy crazy.

Tension radiates from his body, so she throws an arm around his bare shoulders and presses a light kiss to the side of his neck, grounding him. Octavia rolls her eyes.

“Can you not be gross when we're here? Monty and I didn't sign up for a free show.”

“Well, technically, you haven't been invited”, Raven retorts. Bellamy laughs and pokes at Octavia with his foot.

Another knock, and the door opens to reveal Lexa, notepad in hand. “Good morning”, she says distractedly, typing on her phone, before she looks up. It takes her a minute to process the scene in front of her – Raven in bed with a shirtless Bellamy, Octavia pouting, Monty sitting cross-legged on the bed in his flannel pajamas, the complete chaos of Raven's bedroom – and Raven notices the tiniest hint of a smile before Lexa gets her face under control.

“We have a new job”, she announces, casually leaning against the wall. “I just met with a client. Do you want to talk about it in the command center, or should I brief you in here?”

“Command center”, Raven says, firmly.

“Here”, Octavia says at the exact same time.

Lexa raises an eyebrow, but before she has time to comment, the door opens again.

“Hey, Raven? Do you know where everyone...” Clarke stops abruptly when she sees the entire team huddled in Raven's bedroom. “Never mind.”

“Meow”, purrs, somewhat disapprovingly, the ginger cat nestled in Clarke's arms.

Raven glares at the feline. “I told you not to bring this flea-infested creature in my bedroom.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “For the last time, Ponzi doesn't have any fleas.”

“What about rabies?”, Raven grunts, eyeing the cat with suspicion. Clarke found him two days after they moved in, fur matted and dirty, starving, half-dead. He'd obviously been abandoned by his previous owners. She took him in, nursed him back to health, and then decided to keep him, which would have been _fine_ except that the damn cat now seems to believe he owns the place.

“ _Anyway_ ”, Clarke says, in that tone she uses whenever she thinks one of them is being particularly childish. “What are you all doing here? Didn't Lexa tell you we have a job?”

“I tried”, Lexa says.

“Who's the client?”, Bellamy asks, stretching his arms as he sits up a little straighter against the headboard. The gesture makes the sheet fall down, exposing his bare stomach, and Clarke covers Ponzi's eyes in mock outrage.

Lexa clears her throat, unperturbed. “Local business owner. Name's...”

“Wait”, Monty interrupts her. “Should we eat breakfast before we get started? It _is_ the most important meal of the day.”

“I could go for some coffee”, Bellamy says.

“Guys”, Raven says, mildly.

Octavia flops down on the bed, ignoring her. “So I'm guessing our morning run is canceled? Ugh.” She pauses, and then looks hopefully at Clarke. “Any chance you'd go down to the kitchen and bring back that box of doughnuts from last night? We never finished them.”

“Guys”, Raven repeats, a little louder this time.

“Octavia, doughnuts are _not_ a healthy breakfast option”, Clarke answers, firmly. “Can we please go back to the job? Lexa, you were saying?”

“Right”, Lexa says, looking like she's trying her best not to smile. “So, the new client... Actually, let me pull up her file on Raven's computer...”

“GUYS”, Raven yells, exasperated. This time, everyone turns to look at her, in shocked silent. “I love you all, but we are _not_ doing this in my room. Everyone, out. _Now_!”

 

 

 

Bellamy is the last person to arrive in the command center thirty minutes later, carrying a heavy tray from the kitchen. He hands everyone their drink of choice – Darjeeling tea for Raven, Earl Grey for Monty, coffee for the rest of them – and sneakily slides the box of doughnuts toward Octavia.

“Spoiled brat”, Clarke mutters under her breath. Octavia sends a kiss to her brother, and sticks her tongue out to Clarke.

Raven hides her smile behind her cup of tea. You can always count on Bellamy for dotting on his little sister. She takes a sip and sighs, grateful. More accurately, you can always count on Bellamy for taking care of everyone. She squeezes his hand in thanks as he sits down next to her. She's not sure what this team would do without his constant attention to their well-being.

She's not sure what _she_ would do without him.

For a brief moment, she contemplates dragging him back to her bedroom and taking the day off, but the thought passes quickly. Raven isn't one to indulge in fantasy when there's a job to do.

Lexa turns on the huge screen that makes up the entire side wall of the room. A picture appears in front of them – a woman with curly red hair and a luminous smile.

“Meet Luna Delmar”, Lexa says. “Owner of a family shop in a small town nearby. Problem is, AzgedaMart just opened a brand new superstore in her town, and she's about to be run out of business. She made her case to the city administration already, but they've all been bribed by Azgeda Inc.”

“Ugh, _corporations_ ”, Octavia grunts, mouth full of doughnut.

Raven frowns. She's gonna need a little more than that. “Don't get me wrong, it sucks, but why should we get involved?”

Lexa considers her question seriously. “She's a good person. Takes in foster kids, gives free meals to the homeless. A navy veteran turned anti-military and antiwar activist. That store is her whole life. I think she deserves our help.”

“And Azgeda Inc is plain evil”, Clarke chimes in. “Lexa's gone against them in the past, and they are ruthless. Isn't this what we do? Give the defenseless a fighting chance against the powerful?”

Bellamy raises his cup of coffee. “Hear, hear!”, he declares, solemn. “Sure sounds like a job for us.” He takes a sip. “Also, they're loaded, which is good cause we need money right now if we wanna keep on investigating the island incident.”

Raven nods. “Alright, then. Who are we up against?”

Monty presses a few keys on his laptop, and two pictures replace Luna on the screen. “Nia Coldwater, CEO of Azgeda Inc”, he explains, pointing to the face of an older woman, with short blond hair and menacing eyes. “And her son, Roan Coldwater”. The man looks equally dangerous.

“It's unlikely we'll be in direct contact with them”, Lexa explains. “But if we do, we need to tread carefully. They are not above using violence to make a threat disappear.”

“They're welcome to try”, Octavia says, almost gleefully.

The screen changes again, this time showing the pictures of two women in their thirties. “Now, _these two_ we'll have to deal with personally”, Lexa says. “Ontari Holden, on the left, is the general manager of the newly opened superstore. She should be an easy mark, she's very keen on proving herself to her boss, we can use that. Echo, on the right, is the head of security. No last name, a bit of an enigma.”

“Oh, I know her”, Bellamy says, eyes narrowed, as he leans on his elbows to get a closer look at the picture. “I did an op with her, back in the day. She was a double agent, almost got me killed. She's _good_.”

“Better than you?”, Raven asks. She's not teasing, she needs to know. There's no place for an ego when you plot a con – you need to plan your steps with full awareness of your disadvantages

He sits back against his chair and sets his jaw, confident. “I can handle Echo.”

“Noted”, Lexa says, pensive. “What kind of con are we thinking of for this?”

Monty meets Raven's eyes, and she motions for him to talk. “According to my database, we don't have many options. Stores of that size, from corporations as big and wealthy as Azgeda Inc, have only closed down for three reasons, in the past. Lack of profits. Health hazard. Increased competition in the area.”

Raven rubs the bridge of her nose. She can feel the wheels turning in her brain, a delicate machinery of neurons and synapses making connections and probing for ideas. “Alright, obviously we can cross out that last one. It would defeat our purpose to create more competition for Luna.”

“What if we steal everything in the store? They'd have to close”, Octavia suggests.

“It would only be a temporary solution”, Clarke replies. “They would simply replace their stocks and reopen, with even stricter security.”

“We need a plan that permanently closes _this store_ in particular”, Lexa agrees, before looking up to Raven. “Health hazard?”

Raven grins. “Are you thinking what I'm thinking? The health inspector scam?”

“Or a modified version. We'll need someone to play the part, of course”, Lexa says, looking at Clarke. “What do you think? Can you impersonate a government agent?”

Clarke gives her a cocky grin. “ _Please_. Been there, done that, got the bank account to prove it.” Lexa smiles, fondly, and Raven resists the urge to roll her eyes. Besotted idiots.

“Monty, can you dig up Ontari's medical records?”

“Gimme a minute”, he says, tongue out in concentration. When he pulls them on the screen, there's a few minutes of silence, as everyone skim them for information. And then Raven chuckles incredulously.

“Well, I know how we're gonna do it.”

“How?”, Octavia says, brows furrowed. Raven smiles widely.

“I'm gonna need Ponzi.”

She spends the next thirty minutes explaining her plan, and when everyone is on board, they all go their own way to research and prepare.

That leaves Raven alone in the command center with Lexa. They go over the details of the con, and – and it's unexpectedly _helpful_ , to have someone like Lexa to discuss these things with. Raven comes up with a few key elements, Lexa sets up a meticulous time-line, and they work together like a well-oiled machine.

So when the work is done, and Lexa shuffles her notes back into her folder, Raven feels the sudden impulse to be honest. “I never thanked you for busting me out of prison.”

“Your friends were very convincing”, Lexa shrugs, after a second of surprised silence. A pause, and she adds: “And I couldn't leave the best engineer in the world to rot in prison for the rest of her life. That would have been a waste of talent.”

Raven smirks. “You're damn right I'm the best.”

Lexa makes a small amused sound, and downs the last of her coffee. Raven leans against the back of her chair. Since they're being so honest right now, might as well tell it all. “You know, I _really_ didn't want you on the team, at first.”

Lexa looks up, and Raven doesn't avert her eyes. It is the truth, and she had good reasons. But she's never been afraid to change her views on something – she's a scientist at heart, she follows the evidence. And so far, the evidence points to Lexa being an asset.

And yeah, maybe even a friend.

“And now?”, Lexa says, calmly.

“Now I understand why Clarke wanted you so badly to stay.”

Lexa nods, accepting the compliment without fuss. She rests her forearms on the table, looking hesitant suddenly, which is so unlike her it almost makes Raven nervous. “I never asked you, because I got the hint that you weren't interested in sharing, but I _am_ curious. What happened to you, Raven? How did you get caught?”

 

 

 

_ Four months ago. _

_This is an easy job, Raven tells herself as she makes her way down to the laboratory hidden deep inside the fortress that is Mount Weather Corp's headquarters. Get in, get what they came for, get out. Nothing the best team of thieves and con artists ever assembled can't handle._

_She replays the plan to herself, waiting for the elevator to reach the basement level. Clarke is the distraction, meeting with the board of scientists, and CEO Dante Wallace, who think she's here to sell them secrets from their competitor. This will buy time for Bellamy to secure the extraction route, while Monty and Octavia are working together on the money trail. If it all goes well, Weather Corp will have a few empty accounts at the end of the day, and the team will have won one of their biggest prize yet._

_Raven, though, is the key. They've been hired by a group of people claiming they've suffered abusive experiments at the hands of Mount Weather Corp, a powerful pharmaceutical company. And Raven is headed down to the lab to get the evidence they need to bring the case to court._

_She exits the elevator into a long narrow hallway. The dimmed artificial lights make the greenish carpet look positively creepy, and she rolls her eyes. Evil corporations and their cartoonish villain aesthetic. No originality whatsoever. She's almost at her destination when Clarke's voice comes over the com'._

“ _Raven”, Clarke says, sounding out of breath. “You don't have much time. They knew who I was, my cover is blown. I barely made it out. Get the evidence and get out of there! Do you copy?”_

_Raven doesn't answer. In front of her, emerging from the shadows with a gun pointed at her head, is Cage Wallace, Dante's son and the director of Mount Weather Corp's drug testing program._

_He presses a finger to his lips, and takes a step toward her, confident._

_Raven's heart is beating fast, cold sweat dripping down her back. Questions swarm her mind. How did they know? How did_ Cage _know she was coming? What did she miss? She tries to get her breathing under control, frantically looking for an escape plan._

_Suddenly, Bellamy's voice is in her ear, controlled, tense. “Raven, wherever you are, do NOT go to the lab. They know you're coming, it's a trap. Hide somewhere, we'll get you out. I repeat, do NOT pursue!”_

_Cage smiles, a cruel smile with too much teeth. Before he can say anything, Raven turns around and runs. If she can get to the elevator before he reacts, she'll be safe. No way in hell is she letting herself get caught. Raven Reyes doesn't get caught. She briefly thinks of her friends, hoping they all made it out safely, wondering if..._

_There's a loud detonation, and Raven falls, face first. She stares at the green carpet, unable to piece together what just happened. For a few seconds she is merely confused, until pain erupts in her lower back, terrible, an explosion of fire. She grits her teeth, as understanding comes to her mind. She's been shot. Cage shot her in the back._

_Tears stream down her face. She's vaguely aware of voices in her com', but she can't make up who is talking, or what they're saying, because of the screaming. Who the hell is screaming like that? She keeps seeing black dots every time she closes her eyes. She tries to move, but the pain is too intense, her legs unresponsive. She lets her head fall down on the green carpet. It hurts to breathe._

_With a sudden flash of clarity she realizes_ she _is the one screaming, and then everything fades to black._

 

 

 

“Clarke, get your ass in here!”, Raven yells from her chair in the command center.

A few minutes later, Clarke comes in, one eyebrow raised in silent question. She's dressed to play her part: professional business suit, sparsely applied make-up that makes her look older than she is, hair twisted in a strict bun, glasses. Practical clothes, nothing too fancy, an aura of calm authority – she nailed it, as usual.

“How's it coming along?” Clarke asks, when Raven is done examining her outfit.

Raven gestures to the chair beside her. “Take a seat. Monty's finalizing the details, but he has most of your cover ready. Resume and credentials, a fake profile on the official website, diplomas and driver's license.” She slides a folder towards her. “Everything's in there.”

Clarke sits and goes through the documents one by one, and Raven watches her quietly. She's always been impressed by Clarke's ability to absorb information, like an actress learning lines, except she's learning a whole new life. It's fascinating to witness Clarke's body changing, altering to fit her new identity – shoulders straightening, lips thinning, wrist rolling out some imaginary tension.

Raven fidgets with her pen, a little nervous. Her relationship with Clarke has been shaky lately, and even though their ordeal on the island soothed most of the tension, some of it lingers, unresolved. Raven is not too keen on resentment – yes, she was hurt, and Clarke pissed her off, but she'd rather put the whole thing behind them. She misses her friend. She misses _Clarke_.

“Everything looks good”, Clarke says, interrupting her thoughts. “You wanna go over the science with me?”

“Let's do it”, Raven says.

Relief floods her chest – this part is familiar. She's used to prepping Clarke when her roles require some scientific or technical knowledge – she's been doing it for the past four years. And there's something comforting and safe in this routine. It's grounding.

She's missed it too.

“Raven?”, Clarke says, looking at her expectantly. She frowns. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah”, Raven says, shaking her head. “I'm fine. Who do you work for?”

“EPA, Environmental Protection Agency.”

“What are you doing in AzgedaMart?”

“Measuring radon level within the building, to prevent unsafe exposure, as stated by the Toxic Substances Control Act of 1976...”

They go back and forth, Raven asking more and more complex questions, until she's satisfied that Clarke knows the science, and until Clarke feels comfortable with the material. When they've exhausted the subject, there's a small silence, and Clarke rests her chin on her clasped hands.

“Any news on our other project? I've tried every contact I know, but so far no one has come up with information about the island. What about you?”

Raven shrugs. “Not yet.”

Clarke sighs, and gathers the documents in the folder. “Well, Lexa's been calling in some favors from her people back on the coast, I'm sure she'll find something.”

“ _I'll_ find something”, Raven replies. It comes out harsher than she intended. Clarke looks away and stands up, clearly set on avoiding a fight. Raven doesn't even _want_ to fight. Fuck, this nonsense has to end, now.

“We're good”, Raven breathes out, just as Clarke reaches the door. Clarke stops and turns around, slowly. “You and me. We're good.”

“Are we?”

Raven sighs. “Look, I'm sorry I've been giving you the cold shoulder for so long. And I probably shouldn't be so sensitive about Lexa. But I've had a lot on my plate and I..” She chuckles, weakly. “Well, I guess I've been feeling insecure.”

Clarke smiles, hesitantly teasing. “You, insecure? Who are you, and what have you done with Raven Reyes?” Her smile falters, and she looks Raven in the eye. “I'm the one who should apologize. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know it was coming from a good place, Clarke. You were feeling guilty, you wanted to protect me, I get it. But that's not what I needed from you.” Raven swallows, and forces herself to be vulnerable. She didn't plan on this conversation happening now, but whatever. It has to be said. She needs to say this, and Clarke needs to listen for once. “I wanted my friend to comfort me. Tell me I was gonna be okay. That my leg being all messed up didn't change anything. That she still _believed_ in me. I didn't want to feel replaced by a new team member, however great Lexa is.”

Clarke leans back against the door, and puts the folder down on a corner table so she can cross her arms. Raven tenses, half expecting her to get defensive, but Clarke nods. “I know. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I got caught up in my own feelings, and I didn't think of yours. That was shitty of me, and I'm sorry.”

“Mmm.” Raven can only hum in response, throat tight with emotion. Funny how effective a few words can be, when they're sincere.

Clarke straightens her shoulders, like she's building up her strength. “And I know I haven't been the most supportive of whatever is going on between you and Bellamy, and I want to apologize about that too. You know I love you both, and I just want you to be happy. I'm so glad you have him. And I'm glad he has you, too. You two are good for each other.”

Raven swallows the impulse to deflect, and lets Clarke's words resonate in the room. “We are”, she acknowledges. It feels good to say it out loud, and not just to herself. “We are great for each other.” Clarke blinks, and there's a flash of something in her eyes, fleeting, already gone – but Raven isn't an idiot, and she knows her friend too well.

“It's still the three of us, Clarke”, she adds, patient. “It will always be the three of us. We've been through too much together for anything to change that.”

“We're a team”, Clarke says, with a small smile, but Raven shakes her head.

“No, we're _family_.”

Clarke blinks again, and this time Raven doesn't have to guess to know she's blinking back tears. She walks up to her, frowning and a little concerned.

“You better not cry on me, Griffin.”

“I'm not crying”, Clarke mumbles, a little too hoarsely to be convincing.

“Good. Then let me say it again. Bell, you, me – we're family. We're better family than our families ever were – not that _that's_ an accomplishment, but you get the point.”

Clarke lets out a wet chuckle. “The bar is pretty low.”

“And there's always room for more people in our family. There's room for Octavia and Monty. There's _definitely_ room for Wells. And there's room for Lexa too.” Raven pauses. “You don't have to choose.”

“Thanks”, Clarke says, before giving her a soft, earnest look. “You know I'd still pick you first, right?”

“Of course you would, I'm awesome! Plus, Lexa's abs have nothing on mine.”

Clarke smiles fondly. “I might have to disagree. Lexa's abs are truly awe-inspiring.”

“Nah, I'm pretty sure whatever they inspire in you isn't _awe_ ”, Raven teases. Clarke rolls her eyes.

“Alright, leaving now.”

“Wait.”

Before Clarke moves, Raven throws her arms around her in a fierce hug. Clarke freezes at first, and then, tentatively, she returns the embrace, hands coming to rest softly on Raven's back. Raven puts her forehead on Clarke's shoulder and closes her eyes. Clarke is holding her tight now.

She got her friend back.

 

 

 

“And we're on in three...two...one...”

The monitor lights up and Raven leans excitedly toward the screen, putting down her egg sandwich on the small work table. Breakfast is officially over. In front of her, the feed is divided into four squares, each showing different live footage. The entrance of the store, the registers, the staff room, and the manager's office. It's mid-morning, and AzgedaMart is already bursting with activity.

“You did a great job hacking the security system”, Raven tells Monty. The two of them are sitting in the back of the new van, facing the main computer. “I know it wasn't as easy as usual, Azgeda Inc has some serious tech.”

“Eh, it wasn't that bad”, he brushes off, beaming with pride. Raven feels a rush of affection for their youngest team member, and throws her arm around his shoulders, squeezing him into a side hug.

“The best hacker of our generation!”, she praises him, chuckling when she notices the pink on his cheeks. “Come on, you deserve to brag once in a while!”

Monty's lips curve into a lopsided smile. “Yeah, I _am_ good, aren't I?”

“You're a gem, Monty, and I hope that secret boyfriend of yours knows it.”

Now he turns full-on red. “What boyfriend?”

“Oh, come on, we all know you're dating someone. And look, I'm not gonna pester you about it, you do you, buddy. If you're happy, I'm happy.”

Monty turns to face her. “Thanks, Raven. Likewise” he says, sincerely, before turning back to the screen. “OK, I'm gonna do a final check.”

He gets to work. Raven looks over his shoulder at his methodical typing, waiting for him to finish, before she turns on her ear com'.

“Bellamy, are you in position?”

“Yep. Just made it inside, I have eyes on the hallway.”

“Alright, people, let's do this! Clarke, you're on.”

Right on cue, Clarke appears on their screen, as she walks into the store and demands to see the manager. This is Raven's favorite part. The very beginning of a job, the first push that sends the entire thing into motion. A con is like a pendulum clock in that way, every part working in perfect balance, every notch and screw responding to the push and pull of the mechanism.

“Octavia, you ready?”, Raven asks.

“Waiting for your signal”, Octavia whispers on the com'. In the store, Clarke is making a fuss, brandishing her government agency card and standing her ground. Eventually, an employee hurries to the second floor, and comes back with Ontari Holden.

“Go”, Raven tells Octavia. Monty and her watch intently as one corner of the screen shows Clarke engaged in a tense conversation with an impatient-looking Ontari, while in another, Octavia is creeping into Ontari's deserted office through the window.

She immediately makes her way to the desk, and plugs a USB into Ontari's laptop. “I'm in!”, Octavia says, giving the security camera a cheeky grin and a thumbs up.

“That's my line”, Monty grumbles.

Bellamy's voice comes over the com', hushed. “Guys, I see two security guards approaching Ontari's office.”

“Got it”, Octavia says. “I'm just waiting for the software to upload, and I'm out of here. How's Clarke doing?”

Raven turns her attention back to Clarke's part of the screen, just in time to catch an angry looking Ontari making an extremely rude gesture to Clarke.

“Uhhh, she's doing fine”, Raven says. “Monty, can we have some sound?”

Three seconds pass, before Clarke's irritated voice fills the van. “Ms Holden, I don't think you understand quite the danger you're putting yourself and your employees in.”

“For the last time, there is no health hazard. The site was thoroughly checked before construction.”

“New elements have been presented to us, that seem to allude to...”

“I don't care! You're not closing the store to do your inane tests! My boss would never stand for it. I have sales to make!”

Both their voices are growing louder, attracting a small crowd of employees and customers alike. Raven spots Lexa in the mix, just as planned.

“Phase two is a go”, Raven announces on the com'. Clarke's shoulders straighten, and she somehow makes herself look taller – and angrier.

“Look, lady, this is government business. If you don't cooperate I'm gonna have to evacuate the premises! The radon gas emissions could have mutated for all we know and any leak would be...”

“Mutations?”, Lexa protests loudly from within the crowd. “There's a gas leak?”

Nervous whispers echo her statement, and customers look at each other with alarm. The sound of Lexa coughing loudly makes a few of them twitch away. “What's happening to me?”, Lexa croaks fearfully. “Am I getting sick?”

Raven and Monty look at each other, stifling their laughter. Who knew Lexa would make such a great comedian?

“You're fine”, Ontari snaps back, just as an employee scratches his arms frantically.

“Why am I so itchy all of a sudden?”, he cries out, clearly stressed out. And then it begins – the crowd grows frantic, everyone talking loudly, and eventually rushing to the doors in a panicked exit.

“No, no, no!” Ontari exclaims, staring at the people fleeing. “Nothing is happening, nobody's in danger!”

“Well, actually...”, Clarke begins, but Ontari cuts her off, venomous. “Oh you, _shut up_! You've done enough damage already!”

“Hey”, Lexa says, appearing like a vengeful spirit just behind Ontari, towering menacingly over her. “Don't talk to her like that!”

Clarke opens her mouth, but no word comes out, and she kinda looks like a fish out of water for a good five seconds. She's clearly caught off guard, and she's not the only one.

 _What the hell is she doing?_ , Raven thinks. Lexa is way off-script, she was supposed to leave with the other customers, and keep feeding the rumors, not turn into Clarke's white knight, or whatever that was.

“And who are you?”, Ontari asks, suspicious. Lexa's still glaring at her, and Clarke is looking at Lexa with a mix of annoyance and fondness.

“Snap out of it!”, Raven barks on the com'.

Lexa straightens her shoulders. “Erm. Just a regular con- customer!” She coughs again, and Raven groans. Unbelievable.

Ontari frowns. “Well, the both of you are disrupting business here, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Security, would you escort them out?”

“Gladly”, Echo snarls, as she takes hold of Clarke's arm, none too gently.

“Oh, I'm gonna enjoy fighting her”, Bellamy grumbles on the com'.

 

 

 

The best thing about the new house, aside from the fact that they now have several bathrooms, is the lab. Raven has an _actual lab_ – complete with state of the art equipment and fancy white boards covered in her neat writing, books and notepads and explosive substances – and all of it belongs to her.

Raven spins in her chair as she waits for the results of the experiment, slowly appraising her kingdom. She's made it clear to her friends that this is an off-limit, wait-till-you're-invited-or-enter-at-your-own-risk kind of space.

(She'll never admit it, but she's allowed Ponzi to come and chill with her in the lab more often than any of her teammates. The cat might be annoying, but at least he doesn't _talk_.)

The machine lets out a small _beep_ , and she stops spinning. Time to check if she got it right. She opens the lid of the pitcher, and immediately pinches her nose. The smell is awful, something between month old garbage and rotten egg, with a hint of moldy onion. And it's so strong, her eyes water.

“Success”, Raven whispers to herself, still pinching her nose. She rolls her chair around and reaches for her notebook and a pen, thinking of a few alterations to make before the final product.

Someone knocks on the door. “Come in”, she replies, distracted.

“Hey, Raven... oh God, what's that smell?”

Bellamy is standing in the doorway, nose scrunched in disgust, a tray in his hands.

“That smell is our secret weapon”, she tells him, dramatically spinning in her chair to face him. He looks unimpressed as he puts the tray down on Raven's desk and crosses the room to open a window.

The breeze of fresh air that fills the overheated lab _does_ feel nice. Raven closes her eyes and lets out a content sigh.

“You're working too much”, Bellamy says, with concern. She shakes her head, eyes still closed. “I'm fine.”

There's a hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly, and Bellamy carefully pushes her chair towards the desk. “Eat something, at least. I brought you dinner.” Raven opens her eyes to discover a steaming bowl of what looks like chicken soup, a slice of toasted bread, and two chocolate chips cookies, freshly baked.

“Oh my God, I love you”, she whispers, delighted.

She hears a sharp intake of breath, and the warm weight of Bellamy's hand on her shoulder suddenly disappears. Oh. _Oh_.

She's never said those words to him. To be fair, they haven't talked much about their relationship. When she came back from prison, something instantly clicked between them, and Raven just accepted the connection she felt to him. Maybe it had always been there. Maybe the traumatizing event she'd gone through had shaken the status quo and revealed her buried feelings. Raven doesn't know, and honestly, doesn't give a damn. She's not interested in dissecting her relationship with Bellamy looking for hints and clues. They were friends then and they're friends now.

She can't deny they've also grown into something else though. And it's not just the sex, because – well, no need to go into details, but when she started working with Bellamy and Clarke, they were a few instances where sex just _happened_ between the three of them. Blame it on the thrill of victory, a couple drunken nights, the need for intimacy – whatever the reason, it never meant anything.

This is different. This feels real. And Raven has never shied away from reality.

She spins her chair around. Bellamy is standing still, eyes wide open, looking both bewildered and hopeful, and she can't help smiling at the sight of him, at the sight of how much she affects him.

“I do”, she says. She's not even nervous. There is no one she trusts more with her heart than Bellamy. “I love you.”

His face softens. “I love you too, Raven.” For a minute, they stare at each other, silently acknowledging what just happened. Then Bellamy shakes his head, and pushes brown curls away from his eyes, almost coy. “You should eat your soup before it gets cold.”

Ok, moment over. Raven turns back to her dinner, and brings the bowl to her lips. She is starving, suddenly – apparently, emotional vulnerability really opens up her appetite. As she devours her food, Bellamy walks around in the lab, observing the many projects Raven is working on. She keeps an eye on him, just in case, as she munches on her toast.

(She might trust him with her heart, but she sure as hell doesn't trust him with her science.)

“What's this?”, he asks, his hand reaching toward a small vial inside the fridge. “Don't touch it”, Raven warns, threateningly pointing a cookie at him.

“Why? What does it do? It just looks like green slime.”

“Yeah, but it's not any old green slime, it's my very special Mutated Green Slime.” Bellamy gives her a look. Raven grins. “It's alive”, she says in her best evil scientist voice, before biting a big chunk off her cookie.

“You're terrifying”, Bellamy deadpans. “What about those two beakers over there?”

“I call them “Essence of Ponzi”. They're for tomorrow. Ontari is gonna have a hell of a time”, Raven says, before beckoning Bellamy closer. She dangles the remaining cookie in front of him. “Want a piece of this?”

He presses his legs against her knees and bends down to cup her face in his hands. “I'll have a piece of you”, he whispers against her mouth, before he kisses her.

Raven doesn't get much more done after that.

 

 

 

_ Three months ago. _

_The door to her cell opens with a loud metallic clank, just like every morning. From her bed, Raven stares blankly at the two men in white coats who enter quickly before the door is closed shut again. They don't look at her and go straight for her charts stacked at the foot of her hospital bed. They peruse over the files, not saying a word except for a few grunts here and there, and Raven's heartbeat fastens, as it always does. What if something went wrong during the surgery and they are just now figuring it out? What if she's dying? What if the last thing she sees is her ugly, depressing cell?_

“ _Still no sign of complications. The wound is healing nicely”, the older doctor grumbles, putting the charts back. Raven sighs in relief._

_Its been a month. An entire month since the accident. A month since she was shot in the back, arrested, had surgery and was put in this cell for the time of her recovery – and she went through all of it completely alone._

_Not one call, not one letter, not even a few words passed to her via another inmate – she even started staring out the tiny barred window near the ceiling in the hopes she'll see smoke signals. Raven hasn't heard from her friends at all, and the thought is enough to make her nauseous. Where the fuck are they? What's taking them so long?_

_It's been so lonely, so utterly sad, lying in her narrow hospital bed day and night, completely cut off from the outside world, that her mind has started to play tricks on her. The other day she dreamed that her mother had come to visit her. And more than the implausibility of the scenario, what scares Raven is that during the few seconds she believed her dream was real, she was_ happy _._

_Her mother has never once made her happy. That's how she knows things are dire._

_The doctors knock on the door to signal the guards that they are ready to be let out and the sound startles her. Raven tries to sit up, groaning as pain blooms in her lower back._

“ _Wait, wait! I have questions!”_

_The younger doctor shakes his head. “We are not at liberty to engage. If you experience any pain or discomfort, talk to the nurse.”_

“ _Please, just tell me how long this will take. How long till I can walk again?”, Raven begs. The nurse is a prison guard, and she barely talks to Raven. The door opens, and the young doctor steps out, not bothering to answer, but the older man lingers in the cell. She can see a guard hovering nervously behind him, and for a brief instant she wants to laugh. As if she could escape in her state. She can't even go to the bathroom on her own._

_The man turns to face her. His face is neutral, but his eyes are heavy with something that makes Raven recoil. Pity, she realizes._

“ _You'll never walk again”, he says. “Not without crutches.”_

_And then he's gone, and the door closes behind him with a resounding clang, and Raven is left alone, shocked, miserable, desperate._

 

 

 

“Hurry up, Reyes! We don't have all day!”, Octavia whispers impatiently as she strides into the hotel lobby like she owns the place. She's dressed up as a bellboy, hilarious brimless cap and all – the sight of her this morning sent Bellamy into a ten minutes laughing fit.

Raven has opted for a less flamboyant costume, yet one that gives her an equally easy access to the hotel: a mechanic's jumpsuit. She's carrying what is ostensibly a toolbox, and struggling with the weight of it – not that she'd admit that to anyone, especially since she rejected Octavia's offer to carry it for her.

She grits her teeth, stubborn. Her hip is stiff, her back aches. She's having trouble keeping up with Octavia, and she really _really_ doesn't want to ask her to slow down. It's been hard enough convincing the team she could do this.

Thankfully, Octavia stops in front of the elevator instead of taking the stairs. She adjusts her hat and glances at Raven, who nods her gratitude. They wait in silence for the elevator. The lobby is mostly empty – breakfast is over, and most guests are either out or back into their rooms. A couple of employees walk past them without a second look. Nobody seems to be paying attention to the bellboy and the mechanic, but Raven can't help a sigh of relief when they're finally alone in the elevator. She hasn't been on a field mission since Mount Weather Corp – of course she's a little nervous. Octavia, facing away from the security camera, bumps her shoulder, and the simple gesture of camaraderie helps a little.

They reach their destination without a hitch, and Octavia works the door lock open in a stunning thirty seconds while Raven stands guard in the hallway. “Meh, I've done better”, Octavia pouts, when she's done. Raven shakes her head, but can't help smiling. She's always had a soft spot for arrogant assholes who are very good at what they do.

Just as the door closes behind them, Bellamy's voice comes through on the com'. “Status update? Where are you guys? What's going on? Everything alright?”

“Jesus, Bell. Relax, we got it!”, Octavia mutters, rolling her eyes at her brother's slightly frantic tone.

“We made it”, Raven confirms. “We're in Ontari's hotel room.”

“Nicely done”, Bellamy breathes out. The relief in his voice is hard to miss. “I knew you could do it.”

Raven chooses not to comment on the obvious lie, and instead opens her toolbox. Since she announced her decision to team up with Octavia for this part of the con, Bellamy has been trying, and failing, to cover up his anxiety. She knows the only reason he hasn't spoken up against the plan is because he trusts both of them way too much to suggest they aren't up to the task.

She should be irritated. What, now that she has to wear a brace she can't do field ops anymore? Nonsense. Her leg might be unwilling to cooperate, but her head is working just fine, and any con artist worth something knows it's brains, not brawn, that make a job successful.

Despite it all, Raven can't quite muster the energy to be annoyed at Bellamy's concerns. Probably because underneath her confident facade, the exact same fears have been gnawing at her for a while.

(And whatever. His worrying is kinda endearing. Maybe.)

Raven inspects the contents of her toolbox, before handing a small vial to Octavia. “This is the cat saliva, it goes in Ontari's make up – a few drops should be enough. Bell, how are the others doing?”

“Good. I'm checking in on them every fifteen minutes, and I've only been called annoying twice, though I'm pretty sure Monty insulted me in Korean. Everything is working as planned.”

“Alright then, talk later, got work to do.”

Raven turns the com' off before Bellamy can protest. No time to be distracted by the boyfriend, however nice his voice might sound in her ears right now. Kinda like when he wakes her up in the morning, his breath on her temple, whispering sweet nothings and not-so-innocent suggestions.

She must have spaced out for a second, because Octavia pokes her shoulder, hard. “Are you done daydreaming about my brother?”

Raven grimaces. “Yep, all done. Alright, let's finish this.”

They work efficiently, the two of them, going through their list of tasks with barely any chatter. It's nice to work with Octavia, Raven thinks as she replaces Ontari's sleeping pills with laxatives. For all her attitude, the girl is dedicated, focused, and insanely competent. Fifteen minutes later, and they're ready to go: the fire alarm has been programmed to chirp annoyingly every two hours, Ontari's toothpaste is full of yellow dye, and the espresso shots stacked near the coffee machine are now disappointingly decaf.

“Ontari's gonna have a long night”, Octavia says, as they sneak out of the hotel, right on time for Bellamy to pick them up in the van.

“And an even longer morning”, Raven grins. She's exhilarated, and relieved, as she climbs into the passenger seat, but it's more than the usual adrenaline rush, or the deep satisfaction of a con coming together nicely. She did it. Bum leg and sore back and so much slower than she used to be, but she did it.

Raven smiles to herself in the car's side-mirror. Bellamy updates them on the rest of the team – Clarke, Lexa and Monty spent the morning undercover in AzgedaMart setting up a few _special effects_ for the big finale tomorrow - as he drives them back to the house. “You two wanna celebrate while we wait for them to come back? I bought pizza and beers.”

Raven shakes her head. “Sorry Bell, as tempting as it is, pizza's gonna have to wait.” She takes a deep breath, and settles in her newly-found confidence, the comfort of knowing that what happened to her is not a limitation, merely a new path, and it will lead her wherever she damn pleases.

“I got a bookshelf to assemble”

 

 

 

Well, that's what Raven calls an all around fucking success. Not only does the con works out perfectly, but the whole thing is downright hilarious. Two birds, one stone, right? Or more accurately two goals, one Raven.

The day starts with the team monitoring Ontari as she comes in to work. Disheveled, sniffling, red eyed – all consequences of Octavia and Raven's little field trip – she's a terrifying sight. See, the thing Raven noticed when she read through Ontari's medical history was that she's allergic to cats. Which is why they've poisoned all her make up with some of Ponzi's saliva and hair.

The easiest way to con someone into thinking they're sick: _actually_ make them sick. And the results are highly satisfying, because Ontari really looks terrible. When she barks at an employee who asks her if she's alright, the guy recoils, disgusted, when he spots her yellow gums.

Ontari walks briskly to her office, opens the door – and they are all huddled in the van, watching the cam feed with rapt attention. She gags at the smell, then notices the brown envelope conveniently laid out on her desk. It's a document from Clarke, and Raven knows exactly what's underlined so it catches Ontari's attention. _Signs of mutation in a radon gas contamination case... strong smell of rot... green slime.... If exposed, symptoms include tiredness, sore eyes and throat, runny nose, diarrhea and digestive trouble, yellow gums._

“Look at her face”, Octavia whispers gleefully. They all crowd the screen to get a good look. Ontari is livid. And, at long last, visibly terrified.

And that's when she notices the green muck oozing from the ceiling. When a drop falls on her face, that's the tipping point. The reaction is immediate – and everything they were hoping for. With a whimper of disgust, Ontari runs to the phone on her desk.

“Aaaaannnnd broadcasting now”, Monty says, cheerfully.

“Mrs Coldwater, this is Ontari Holden, General Manager. We need to close the store, this is an emergency.”

Cheers erupt in the van while Ontari keeps talking, unaware that her conversation and mental breakdown are being broadcast live on each one of the store's numerous televisions.

The team scrambles out of the van to witness the result first hand. In the store, it's chaos. Employees are quitting on the spot, others organize a spontaneous protest. Customers leave without paying. Raven stands in the middle of it, and she can't help the smile stretching her lips. They did it, and it is fucking _glorious_.

“What's going on here?”

Raven, startled, barely has time to turn around before Echo is right there in her face, teeth bared. “Are you the one responsible for this?”, she snaps. She looks kinda hot, and _extremely_ dangerous. Raven gulps.

“Hey”, Bellamy intervenes, pushing Echo away from Raven. “Pick on someone your own size.”

Echo blinks. “Blake?” She furrows her brows. “Didn't think you made it out of Beirut alive.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“As for size...”, Echo trails off, looking him up and down. “I remember you being bigger.” And without a pause, she lunges at him. Her elbow hits his left cheekbone - Bellamy lets out a soft grunt – and suddenly Lexa is standing before him, arms outstretched, as if she wants to... protect him? Raven blinks.

She's not the only one surprised by this turn of events. Echo's eyes widen. “You again?”

Lexa's jaw is set, and she looks more intimidating than ever. “Nobody hurts my team.”

But Bellamy touches her shoulder, gently. “Lexa, it's okay. Let me handle this.” When she steps aside, he shakes his hands, and rolls out his neck. “Damn, Echo, that was pretty weak. Barely scratched me. I see you got soft in your time serving your corporate master.”

He fakes a left hook, and lands a high kick right in her ribcage. Echo stumbles, breathless for a few seconds. “Not all of us... have the luxury... of becoming fucking Robin Hood”, she utters, between gritted teeth.

He blocks her next punch. “Nothing's stopping you.” She circles him, slowly, but he keeps his guard up, never letting her past his defenses. “Come on, Echo”, Bellamy says, “I know you. I know you're loyal, but the Coldwaters don't deserve your loyalty. Don't you see they'll throw you under the bus as soon as it's convenient for them?”

Echo's mouth curves into a knowing grin. “Manipulation, huh? You tried that shit in Beirut. Didn't work then, won't work now.”

“It's true, though. And you know it, cause you're everything but an idiot. Be smart, Echo. This isn't worth it. Let it go.”

And just as Raven thinks _he can't possibly believe that will work_ , Echo drops her fighting stance. She sighs, and looks at Bellamy with an emotion Raven can't quite identify. It's too aggressive to be regret, too soft to be hostility.

“I am sorry, you know. About Beirut.”

Bellamy stares at her, then grins. “It was a good plan. I never saw it coming.”

Echo gestures towards the door with her head. “Come on. Get out of here.”

Nobody hesitates. They all make their way back to the van, happy and relieved. Lexa calls Luna to update her on their success, and as she talks, Clarke links their arms together. _They look good together_ , Raven thinks, smiling to herself. She's about to suggest that they go get some drinks at the local bar to celebrate, when they all stop dead in their tracks.

Outside the van, waiting, is a man wearing a black suit. A bald white man.

He takes a step toward them, and Raven tenses instinctively, ready for another fight, but the man raises his hands in a pacifying manner. In between two fingers, he's holding a badge, and Raven's heart falters at the sight. FBI. _Shit_.

“I'm here to talk.”

 

 

 

What happens next feels surreal, in a way that has Raven pinching her arm repeatedly in the hopes that she'll wake up. She doesn't.

The man escorts them to a private room in a restaurant nearby. They go in through the back door, silent and nervous. Raven resists the urge to make a thousand jokes about spy movies.

In the room, there's a long, dark wooden table, topped with a thin white tablecloth. Ten chairs or so. A couple pitchers with ice water.

The bald man points to the chairs around the table, inviting them to take a seat. No one moves. Raven crosses her arms against her chest, defensively. Bellamy is standing one step behind her, firm and reassuring.

“Who are you? Why have you been following us?”, Raven asks.

“You can call me Titus.”

“It was _you_. You put us on the island”, Clarke says, slowly. Her eyes are cold, her mouth a thin furious line.

He nods. “I did. The island was... a test, if you will. We needed to make sure that you were good enough. That you were ready.”

“Ready for what?”, Octavia asks, voice rising in anger. “What do you want with us?”

“We have a job for you.”

Well, now Raven is confused. She thought they were about to be arrested, not offered a deal. What kind of job would the FBI need them for?

As if he could read her mind, Titus turns his attention toward her. “We need you to steal something.”

There is a long pause, as they all digest this revelation. It's Lexa who eventually asks the obvious question, in a neutral, business-like tone.

“Who's the target?”

“Mount Weather Corp.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was heavily influenced by "The Low Low Price job" episode of Leverage. I hope you enjoyed it!


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